I promise
by The hazel-eyed bookworm
Summary: Sequel to Demon Child. Massive AU. The prelude of a war is not a good time for a boy to discover that he is not unbreakable.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! Here's the prologue of the sequel! Enjoy it!**

**Prologue: An announced ending.**

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You don't have to be dead to be a ghost. You don't have to hide under a sheet, or howl dramatically whenever somebody approaches.

All you have to do is feel dead. All you have to do is hide under a layer of lies. All you have to do is cry for help on the inside. You're still a ghost, either way. Walking the world alone, wandering with no clear purpose. Drifting. Aimless.

For the past few years of my life, I fit that description. I eventually got tired of surviving on my own, let me tell you.

And now...now it seems like everything I did wasn't worth it. After months of running, escaping, praying. What good is to pray? Pray, beg, plead ... when things can't change, what's the point? If you already know how the scene ends, why do you pray, dude?

It's like asking a movie you have already seen to have a different ending. No, man, the end is already written. Doesn't matter how much you cry, scream and kick everything will end as it has to end ... badly. You aren't quite recovered from a punch and another comes...and in the same place. The wound hasn't healed to a scar, and you get hurt again. One hopes that the wound heals, to don't hurt more. To don't hurt as much.

That's why I do not pray, or beg, or plead. Because I know that my life is an announced ending... and it's not a happy one.

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**Review, please!**


	2. In the darkness

**Sequel posted guys! R&amp;R please!**

**Chapter one: In the darkness**

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_**The hardest part of heartbreaks or even tragedies is realizing that life keeps going, even if you're not ready for it.**_

She didn't want it. Even since that fateful day, she had wanted for life to stop. Or that nightmare to end. The nine-year-old girl shivered as she walked down a corridor of the school. She hadn't been the same since he had left. Life just wasn't the same. Lea touched the red gem she had in her neck, the only thing her brother had left her.

Her brother, Valentine.

Even if the others say it wasn't her fault, even if Rius couldn't undone the blocking charm that had been placed inside them, even if there was nothing she could do, she still blamed herself for not noticing, for thinking he was okay. It hadn't occurred to her that maybe her brother wasn't as fine as he seemed to be.

She knew there was something wrong since the basement. She saw him running like there was no tomorrow, and then freeze, his brown eyes widening in paralyzed terror. She had tried to make him get out of the place he had locked himself in. Saw him respond, saw the hot tears that instantly leaked from out of his eyes as they rapidly flowed down his flushed cheeks. One time, as their family was in the living room, she had gone upstairs and found him trapped in a nightmare. He had screamed and yelled; voice rising higher and higher in anguish at what he was seeing, before cracking slightly in a fever pitch.

Once it was over, he seemed to have just done that, though.

He gave up.

He wouldn't utter a word, he wouldn't listen to a word that anyone else was saying as their dad had tried talking to him but to no avail, and he seemed to work like a machine; only moving if prompted by another person manually. His eyes were misty and glazed – the flame that had once blazed around from within was undetectable when she herself tried to talk to him.

A few times, she could've sworn she saw that swirl of fire spark for a moment, even for a little moment when she tried to engage him in a conversation with her, and when she tried to start the fire that had once burned so brilliantly from within him. It certainly ignited the hope from within her as she tried to remind him of what he had told her. To never give up, and to keep going forward for today was a new day. Those words had always inspired her, and she tried to get him inspired by the very words he uttered as she repeated what he said.

But it didn't work.

He wouldn't listen to even her own words.

He was just that broken.

And it truly upset her to see him in such a defeated state. To see such a strong, passionate and confident person crumble into just a broken shell of the one he once was.

But what truly upset her more was that lack of communication. That pushing everyone away just by being unresponsive.

_'I'm your friend, too, right?_' she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut. _'You promised that you would tell me how you feel, and that I was that person who you'd talk to when you wanted. Why didn't you just talk to me?!_' her hand instantly formed into a tight fist as her whole body began to quiver.

She would've been happy if he yelled and screamed at her; she would've even been delighted if he broke down crying right on her shoulder – she definitely didn't mind that. She just wanted him to show that he was still functioning. She would do anything to help comfort him, make him better and show him that he wasn't alone in this cruel, twisted world.

That there was someone who loved him.

Now that she thought about it a bit more, it was unfair to be angry or demand something from him especially given his state. He certainly gave a few reactions when she tried communicating with him. However, of course the pain wouldn't go away so easily. It would take time; usually loads of it to heal away the pain. But even then, she knew that there would be scars remaining on his being over that. Maybe he was still trying to battle that despair that had swelled from within him. Or maybe he was just shutting everyone else away because he was afraid something would happen to them, and he couldn't bear that thought.

Either way, he truly just needed time.

Too bad that it wasn't on anyone's side.

He should've talked to someone, anyone. He should have accepted help.

Her brother definitely wasn't like his father, he didn't lie unless he had to. She was certain that the feelings of fondness they had and shared with another was true and real.

He was a real person.

A real person that was now gone.

And she wanted just a moment, even if small, to grieve a bit over his unexpected disappearance. Such a person who was so real and so true deserved that, right?

Sometimes, Lea knew they both felt the charm breaking for a little moment, and by the looks of it, Vale would feel her emotions, while Lea would see him. Her emotions in that case were always fear and an utter helplessness, for she saw that what he was doing was always killing him from the inside, little by little. She saw him wanting to escape, saw him fail, and they both cried themselves to sleep when they realized there was no way out. But she could still feel hope within him.

Giving another calming, deep breath, she continued walking and went downstairs, still touching the gem, as for once, a small smile had twitched at the corners of her lips.

Since when was the last time that even she of all people smiled?

No, she couldn't give up. Definitely not now. She shouldn't give up. Not for the disgusting amusement of that dreadful monster pulling the strings. She wasn't going to give up – she had to continue: for everyone that was still fighting, for everyone that had a chance…

And especially, for him.

"Hey White." Lea huffed in annoyance. Since Vale had left, Troy and his goons had made her their target. Three big boys against a littler, younger girl. Logical and all.

"What do you want Troy?"

"What is that?" he asked, snatching the red gem, breaking the tiny rope on her neck. She had to use all her willpower not to use her magic and make him pay.

"That's mine! Give it to me, my brother gave it to me!" she growled, jumping to her feet.

"Your brother? The one who left you? And you still have it? How cute." He chuckled evilly.

"I said, give it to me!" Lea lunged to him. He snatched her arm and pushed her roughly. But he didn't expect her to tumble until she reached the stairs.

She crashed and tumbled down the staircase until she came to a rest at the far end, lying still.

"Dammit, come here, she better not be dead." One of Troy's friends said rushing towards her, and shaking her.

But Lea was not moving. Troy came down the stairs and gave the girl a kick, but it only resulted in pushing Lea onto her back, her head lolling sideways. There was some blood on her temple and it had smeared the floor.

''What's wrong with her?'' Troy hissed, and the other boy shrugged his shoulders, not looking too concerned about the motionless body of the girl.

''She fell down the stairs, the stupid git, maybe she's unconscious.''

Troy looked down at Lea, biting his lip. She was breathing, if quite shallowly, but she could probably have a concussion.

"HEY!" the three boys jumped alarm as they heard Matt White's voice. "What are you doing with my sister this time?!" he frowned when they just ran away.

Jake and Diego came running and they gasped at the girl lying on the floor.

* * *

In a closed cave in a lone part of the lair, another form was lying motionless on the floor. This one was bigger, even if it was just as skinny. His long blonde hair was tangled and filthy, and, when he opened them, his eyes seemed to be dead.

The boy was a halfbreed by the name of Valentine White, although he hadn't heard that name spoken since he had arrived there. There were times he wasn't even sure if this really was his name. After all, he was expected to respond at the name 'Duncan'.

He had tucked his head between his arms, and clasped his hands over the back of his neck. He kept himself curled up protectively for another half minute or so, making sure there wasn't anyone near him. That self-defense position had been engraved deep down in his mind, after his first beating, when he had just arrived there. He had taken it when it became sure his father wouldn't listen to his screams, begging for him to stop, for it to _end_. He'd ended up spitting and shitting blood when he'd taken a few too many hits below his ribcage.

That experience had been so horribly painful that he had obeyed his father without complain for a long time...

Gradually, after he regained his senses from the beating enough to hear the lack of breathing around him, he uncurled himself and sat gingerly up.

Inspecting his hands, he found that at some point one of the kicks had split the skin on his right hand while slamming it up against his head.

He tried to stand, found out that he couldn't, and crawled, his head feeling as though it were trying to go three ways at once. He found himself wishing that he hadn't woken up at all. He touched what must be rocks surrounding him everywhere.

The most remarkable thing about where he was, was himself, and the bloodstains he was leaving on the ground. Again.

And he was alone in that little hole.

Again.

As he began to panic like always, he accidentally breathed a little flame, illuminating the cave. He did it again, trying to ignore the place he was in, trying to forget it all. How embarrassing it was that he still couldn't overcome that phobia?

He redirected the flames near him. God, he was cold. It was useless, he thought with a shiver. Even since he arrived there, he had been cold. Always cold, to the point that been able to breathe fire when he felt like this was almost laughable.

One would say he had become used to it, he had felt that way for…how long? Weeks? Months? He wasn't sure. Time became kind of unimportant in a place like this, where the only space of time that mattered was eternity.

He continued trying to keep himself warm, careful to not to make too much noise. He was already on thin ice with his father because lately he had been doing –and quoting- _pathetically_ in his training. He didn't know what was wrong with him; the pain in his back distracted him and prevented him of doing better. The flame he was doing came interrupted as he stuttered. If what Belloc had said was true and he would train with others Kaiju, he was sure if he continued like this he wouldn't survive the first round.

He stretched and felt that pain increase. He only remembered a pain on his back much stronger. He still had the scars, it had been when he was still with the Whi…

There was a sudden pain in the boy's chest which was different from all the pain he had experienced in the lair. He was shaking and so hungry it hurt. He also felt hurt in a different way, in a way that hurt his heart. This pain was fresh, almost physical, as if all of a sudden blood was pumping again through his cold and shriveled heart.

Eventually he slept. He dreamed. His nightmares were so recurring, they were almost like old acquaintances. Unloved acquaintances, but acquaintances nonetheless. He dreamt of terrible searing pain; his body thrashing and hurt. He dreamt of all that had been taken away from him. He didn't have the words to describe it, it hurt and it didn't seem to end. His family, his friends, his life, his happiness. Nothing makes you happier than feeling loved...does it?

Living with resentment. Living without love, in loneliness. Living in fear, terrified.

_There was the towering form of his father above him, while he was lying on the floor. He remembered that, it was the first –and only- time he had tried to escape, like he had done before, but he wasn't that lucky. Belloc had caught him before he could even reach the dead end. His face was a mask of cold fury as the boy felt a change in the air, knowing that he wouldn't escape unharmed of this one. A muttered spell proved his point. Searing hot pain shot through every nerve he possessed, almost blinding him. And the cold eyes of his father, that looked at his screaming son without a flicker of remorse or pity._

_But then something changed. Something that had never happened before. The image changed, and he found himself staring at what he knew was the first time he had seen his sister._

_It had been when he was four, and Matt five, both staring with wonder at the bundle in their Mom's arms. Their little sister. Looking at the little baby girl, a feeling rose in his chest, that seemed to press against its confines, as if it was too big to be held there. He didn't know what was wrong with him! He was a big boy, and he wouldn't cry…_

_He walked up the steps to their parents and little Lea. And then his Mom placed the little bundle in his arms, and he looked down at this astounding new person, with her tiny hands and her tiny feet and the little button of a nose. She had the softest down of red hair gracing her little head._

_And then Lea opened his eyes, green as the hills, and looked at her brother and his heart stopped. In this second the boy was lost forever and a love more fiercely than he had ever known erupted in him._

_He smiled and looked in the bright eyes of his sister, and then he bowed his head and made a whispered promise._

_"In the darkness, holding on by a thread, I will come for you. Don't be afraid. You can trust me... because I've always known you and nothing will harm you. I will fight all your monsters and shield you from foes. I will hold you and always care for you. We belong now. And I will be there to make you laugh and dry all your tears. Because I love you... Believe me, I won't let you down! I'll be by your side, whatever may come. Nothing will stop me! And I will protect you with my life... this I promise."_

_All the happiness he remembered feeling vanished along with the image…_

_And then all he saw was the crumbled form of a small girl with red-blonde hair as she lay motionless on the floor, blood dripping from her temple._

The boy woke up with a sharp intake of breath, and sat bolt upright, the last image lingering in his mind as clearly as if it was in front of him. For the first time in forever, he felt warmth from his golden spot for a second.

''Lea." he whispered.

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**That's...all for now. Okay, read, PM, review and spread the word.**


	3. Holding on by a thread

**Five reviews in the first chapter! WHOA!**

**Okay this is not as good because I have been with writer's block, but enjoy it.**

**Chapter one: Holding on by a thread**

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_**We are twice armed if we fight with faith.**_

When the boy woke from his dream he was frantic. His heart was hammering in his chest. Before his inner eye he saw the small slumped form from his dream. He would never forgive himself if he stayed there while Lea was hurting.

He was desperate. He needed to help Lea and he didn't know how. His heart was aching when he thought of the little girl in the clutches of the vile bullies, so small and so helpless... None of those were happy thoughts. They gave him a desperation he had never felt before. Probably that's why his father hadn't notice; he was locked in, desperate like always.

He didn't belong here... He had not committed any crime to be locked there, even if the oncoming war was ultimately his fault. And he had made a promise. A promise he wasn't keeping by sitting in the lair.

With desperation came determination. He would not be the reason Lea suffered. And if he had to do what would surely give him a painful lesson if discovered, he would. He would go out of this place and he would find Lea. Or he would die trying. Not because he didn't deserve to be here. But because he was needed somewhere else. Because Lea needed him.

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Scanning the hallway of the school, two grey eyes narrowed in confusion. Where were them? Surely nothing could've happened to them, could it?

He looked everywhere, but couldn't find neither Matt nor Lea. Judging by the way that quite a lot students were whispering to each other, something was gravely wrong. As he approached to his friends, he caught their scents. No doubts now.

"What's up?" he asked

Judging by the looks of their faces, something bad had happened.

"Before I tell you, you might need to sit." Maia said.

And tell him she did. Apparently yesterday, Lea had been pushed down the stairs by Troy, giving her a concussion. Matt and his friends had found her, and Troy had been suspended for three days. At the moment, the whole family was in the hospital, since Lea had yet to wake up.

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DARREN'S POV

I watch her every day... I look at her, I see how she withers, how the green fire in her eyes is going out. Little by little, she goes out. She wilts. She dies.

She's not dying, yet she is. Her hope is giving way to despair. And I can not let that happen, but what I can do?

I should have protected her. The thought that someone could hurt Lea was the straw that broke the camel.

"Okay…" I trailed off. "Someone will kill him, or shall I do it?"

They thought I spoke out of anger. How wrong they were.

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NORMAL POV

'Know' and 'Can' aren't synonyms. But they could be. If you know how to do something, you can do it.

So that's why he wasn't heading towards his home when school was over. He didn't know where Troy lived, but Darren could still trace his scent. Did he know how to beat up a person? Yes. Would he do it? DEFINITELY YES.

He had to protect her; someone had to do it while Valentine wasn't available. The mere thought of his friend saddened him. Every day, he thought about the last talk they had had.

…was it even possible that his own words were the cause that he had left?

As a child, he thought of himself useless. Eventually, he became convinced, now he has no doubt. HE WAS GOOD FOR NOTHING.

He should have protected her, even if he knew no one would replace Vale. Lea still missed him with all her heart.

FLASHBACK

_He knew Vale's absence affected Lea terribly, but he didn't know to what extent. So there they were, a few months after Vale had left, in one of the breaks of school, he, Matt, Lea, and one of Lea's friends, Kiara_

_"Besides, Santa Claus isn't magical or anything." Lea was saying matter-of-factly_

_"She says that because Santa hasn't brought her what she requested." Chipped up Kiara. "Maybe it was expensive, because Mom says that Santa doesn't bring expensive things, because he does magic, not miracles." Lea looked at her_

_"What I had asked doesn't cost money, I only asked for Vale to come home and that nothing had happened to him." Darren nearly choked and Matt stiffened_

_"I think that does not work that way, Le." said Matt sadly. For that day, Darren knew what Lea asked for every birthday, every Christmas, she only wanted her brother._

_"You have to ask for two things, because if he does not bring you the first thing, he brings you the second." Kiara said, obviously trying to cheer her up. Lea was thoughtful for a moment_

_"Another thing..." she mused. "I do not want anything to happen to any of you. That is valid, right?"_

_"I don't want it either." Darren thought. "But if it happens, I'll do something about it."_

_END FLASHBACK_

And that was exactly what he was doing.

The track led him up to what he supposed would be Troy's house. Still trailing the scent, he sidled round a house to the backyard, and hid behind a wall, where Troy with some boys. But then he heard it.

''Yeah, I hit the little shit and she fell like a ragged doll. She attacked me because she wanted this."

And then Darren saw a very familiar gem in Troy's hand. He had hurt an innocent person, a friend of his, and now he was _mocking_ her. And, he had stolen the only thing Valentine had left her.

Of course, you can't do something perfectly with just 'know' and 'can'. There's also 'need'. Sometimes, necessity turns you incredibly powerful. He needed to avenge Lea.

There was no rational thought left in Darren's brain, only outrage and seething fury.

* * *

If he did it once, he could do it twice. That is, if he managed to survive whatever test his father had thought for him.

As he stepped in the sunlight, the boy walked towards the end of the cliff and closed his eyes, breathing slowly. He still tried to control the pain of his back, but on the other hand, he was also pleased.

_"What are you doing?"_ came the impatient voice of his father.

_"I missed this."_ He explained. _"The air, the heat, the light..."_

_"If you don't want to go back to the shadows, move."_

"_Why do I ha…"_ he trailed off when he saw exactly what was waiting for him down the cliff.

_"…Oh_." He finished in a shaky voice. He didn't think he would be facing a Kaiju so soon. He took a step back at the same time he noticed the magic being used. He prepared himself for the pain, but it wasn't being used inside him. It was being used beneath him.

He opened his eyes wide as the ground under him cracked open, making him plummet towards what he knew would be his downfall.

* * *

Troy was watching his friends go, satisfied with the way he told the story, when there was suddenly a loud growl just behind him. He wiped around. In his backyard stood one of his classmates, one of the few that could put up a fight against him. But what made Troy's breath catch in his throat and his heart stop just for a moment, were Darren's furiously blazing eyes. They were the eyes of a murderer, a madman.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Darren hissed lowly, unable to resist any longer. Troy was surprised when the sprinklers started functioning all at once.

"So, would you rather have your black eye on the left or the right?" Darren smirked. This was gonna be _fun_.

* * *

Rîus was running as fast as he could. He knew he had reason to be worried. Just thinking what could have happened to Darren to not to come home, that he had not been there when he was supposed to be, filled him with icy fear.

Normally he trusted his nephew, and didn't mind him coming late, but these were dangerous times. Maybe Darren hadn't noticed, but he did. He had seen some guys' with glowing eyes, the first ones in years. And Rîus knew what they were, being one himself. The news were always of mysterious accidents, strange 'animal attacks' (Rîus had to resist the urge to growl at this one) to cut it short, murdering of any kind, people went missing, and some people had started to realize something weird was going on.

He didn't know why they were doing this, surely when the war take place they would be murdering people as well, wouldn't they? Was to spread collective hysteria, to have humans more concentrated for what happened inside their society? Rîus didn't know, but the fact that Darren was well-know because of being with the King three years ago, an Outsider, with all this surrounding him, made his protective uncle side come to life.

Trailing his nephew's scent, Rîus jumped to a backyard of a house. But what he saw was the complete opposite of what he expected to see.

"Hey Uncle." Darren greeted him with a smile. Behind him was a human boy lying motionless.

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**How do you think Rius will react to this?**

**That's...all for now. Okay, read, PM, review and spread the word.**


	4. I will come for you

**Five reviews in the first chapter, and just TWO in the second?! Huh, my bad.**

**Hope you enjoy this**

**Chapter two: I will come for you**

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**_I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star._**

_Modesty aside, I did a good job_, thought Darren as he stood up. He had been looking forwards to a fight like that for a long time. A tensed air was what Darren felt every time he saw the news on TV, and he knew who they were. He had wanted to come across one to fight a little, but this opportunity was as good as any other, plus the added bonus of the circumstances.

He had let his bloodlust take over for a while, but he didn't kill him. It would be too easy and too boring. Also when he awakes, who would believe what happened? Besides, it was his way of helping the Whites. Over and over and over he had offered to go to the lair and try to rescue his missing friend, but was always met with a no. True, he didn't know how a Heisha could enter the lair, but besides that and the zero-tolerance the majority of the Kaiju had with Outsiders, he could do it, right?

He was about to drag Troy to a secluded area, so it would seem like another near-fatal attack, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and greeted him with a smile.

"Hey Uncle."

Rîus stared at him for a second, then his eyes trailed to Troy's immobile body, then back at him.

"Darren Dyllon Wakeman, what the HELL DID YOU DO?!"

Darren blinked, surprised at his uncle's reaction. "I don't see why you're so upset—"

"Upset!" exploded Rîus. "I'm well past that! Did it even occur to you that things are dangerous this times? No! Instead you turn into an executioner and beat him to death. He was defenseless!" He was outraged when Darren interrupted him with a chuckle.

"So that's what this is about…I didn't kill him." Rîus felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. "I wanted to, but it wouldn't have changed anything."

Rîus stared at him some more and then walked towards Troy and lifted him up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fishing. What does it looks like I'm doing?" Rîus deadpanned. "Go home and wait for me there. I prefer having this conversation in somewhere more private."

"_Of course, disappearing with the one spell I don't know about. At least he doesn't know about torri_." He grumbled, before using it.

He honestly didn't understand what he had done wrong. But when Rius came back after dumping Troy in another area, it was clear that something he had done. Darren squirmed under his uncle's silent gaze. He wasn't used to his uncle being that way, just what he had done wrongly?

"I didn't kill him, Rîus. Even if I did, what would be the problem?" he asked. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Darren was taked aback when he saw the look on his uncle's face. It was one he didn't expect to see at all.

"The _problem_, as you dismissed it, is that you almost killed him." "Do you actually want someone's blood on your hands? Not just that, you did magic unintentionally. That kind of things leaves a scent in the air. If someone had traced it…if someone had discovered you…"

"I would have fought them." Darren promptly replied.

"I see, I see. But what if you couldn't? What if they were too many? You could've been killed for your recklessness, or you could even have the war start earlier. And if it did happen, the two races would go at it worse than cats and dogs!" Rîus finished coldly. Darren had held his hands up in defense.

"Now you're overreacting…"

"Oh really? I am overreacting? But it could happen, Dyllon, don't tell me it couldn't." he sighed as he paced back and forth. "I can't believe it," he mumbled almost to himself. "You know I have nothing against you to go and pick up some fights, but this is just over the top! I…you…" he struggled to form words as Darren just stared at him, but he seemed to be understanding just what he could have truly done. "No human language can describe the disappointment I'm feeling right now." Darren flinched at that.

"That jerk gave Lea a concussion, uncle! If you think I was going to sit there and do nothing, you're wrong!" Darren said hotly. "I can help them, if they just let me try…" Rîus stopped and looked at him.

"Well, I think you went too far into trying to help her." The same old argument. "Seems to me, seems to me that the conceited, proud and poorly evolved one, it's you. What is this lament? This self-pity? Poor me I want to help and they don't let me. Do you want a book of complaints? There isn't. I'm sick of your complaints, there's nothing you can do."

* * *

As he fell towards it, the only thought he had was "_Oh God, oh God, I'm gonna die_."

But no. He had to make it. He needed to. Next thing he knew, he had transformed. A bit of an advantage, but not much.

He stuck his fists out making direct and forceful contact with the Kaiju's chest bringing them both down. The Kaiju looked at the boy and smacked him off of its chest sending him flying into a nearby rock. It stood as he peeled himself out of the rock.

My God, that had _hurt_. His eyes narrowed as he ran towards the Kaiju.

_"At least, if I die, I'll be defending myself."_

It picked him up and he managed to grab hold of one of its fingers and wiggle out of its grip, pulling the Kaiju's finger with him. He forcefully pulled the Kaiju's finger causing and audible cracking sound as the enormous finger broke. The Kaiju roared in pain as the boy slipped to the ground in search of a weapon.

He was tired already and didn't seem to be strong enough, even in Kaiju form. He noticed with annoyance that the pain on his back was coming back full force. What did that mean?

Enraged, the Kaiju took to throwing boulders, which narrowly missed their target. He had to do this, he had to survive this, he had made a promise, he had to…

"You can do better than that! Kill him!" Belloc bellowed from the background watching him.

"_I find it difficult enough without your comments!"_ he shot right back. He knew this was a lost battle. There was no end in sight to his ordeal and he was so tired... but what else could he do than try?

BAM

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a boulder reaching him, sending him to a rock again. He managed to get up and took a deep breath to try to, at least, stop the Kaiju with his firebreath, but suddenly doubled over in pain. His back was on fire, the pain made his knees buckle and his eyes go wide.

"_Wha-what are you d-doing?! S-Stop_!" he gasped. But somehow he knew whatever was happening to him wasn't a spell.

BOOM

The head of the Kaiju exploded spraying a green tinted substance everywhere. The boy's eyes widened as he saw the huge mole collapsing to the ground. Still on his knees, he looked to his side and saw an army of –what he could only guess- MEGTAF agents lined with various assortments of weapons.

Pain flared up his back again. What was happening? Were the scars reopening?

He lifted his gaze to who seemed to be the leader of the army, and couldn't help but smirk a bit at the one who was holding a rocket launcher. "_Blitz, it has been a while_."

His mind went blank as the pain again overcame his senses. When most of it was gone, he stood up. He felt…different. He almost had a heart attack when he noticed just what was different. _"No way,"_

Just between his shoulder blades, two red wings were sticking out of each side of him. He couldn't help but notice something was wrong with them. He didn't know a lot about wings, but he thought they were shaped wrongly and were fragile-looking. What could have happened to his wings to form like that?

"_When I was with the Whites, Belloc hurt me. And that cracking sound maybe were my wings, not the bones of my back_." He realized.

He jumped at the sight that met his eyes when he could take them off his new members. Belloc was breathing fire towards the agents causing many tanks to explode and some agents to scatter.

The boy flinched. He couldn't ever recall seeing Belloc so full of murderous intent. He froze on the spot as he watched the battle in front of him, unsure of what to do. If Belloc won the battle, he'd have to stay there or everything might go to hell and everyone he cared about would die. As weak as he was, he was still at Belloc's mercy.

…but he didn't seem to be paying him any attention.

It was obvious that _they_ were too much into the battle to pay him any attention, not that he wanted them noticing him. The rush of adrenaline was gone and he changed back to normal.

He glanced between the battle and his wings.

He knew if there was a way, this was it. He didn't stop to calculate the chances. It was all or nothing, and he had nothing left to lose anymore. He knew the chances were slim, he knew his wings may be weak; he knew it was crazy, but maybe it could work. Determination was filling him up, burning, not like warmth, not even like fire, more like acid.

He had to hurry, every minute he lose was precious. No, all that stretched between him and Lea now was the desert itself and the battle there was at the moment.

The city seemed to be nothing more than a faint line on the horizon. Maybe it was nothing more than an illusion. Maybe the agents would notice him and start shooting at him –even if they should concentrate in the huge monster-. But the boy didn't hesitate. He tried to set off, but he didn't seem to have enough strength to do that. He had to fly, he had wings for a reason. He thought about his parents, about Matt, about Lea. He couldn't stay there. He didn't want to.

He gave a powerful flap and he finally was up in the air. He flew with the same determination that had brought him this far. He flapped his wings and he struggled and he fought. Some of the agents had stopped firing to look at him and he heard Blitz saying not to shoot him, and he didn't give up. He wouldn't. He needed to get to the city if it was the last thing he ever did. He had a promise to keep. He had to make it.

Flapping his wings required of quite an effort, but no matter how tired he was, he didn't stop. Going on foot would make him slower; he couldn't –wouldn't- stop.

_"If I stop now, everything is bollixed up. Maybe MEGTAF will find me, or worse, Belloc will get me and everyone will die and it will be all my fault. I've got to get through this. MEGTAF may distract him long enough anyways. I just have to get through this."_

The boy didn't know when the struggle became too tiring. When his limbs became too heavy. He wouldn't give up... he could see it... he was almost there. Just a bit more of desert and he would be there. His wings ached and he fought to stay in the air.

Finally it was too much and, as he fell to the ground, his last thought was that he had failed.

Then all there was, was blackness.

* * *

**Dun dun DUUUUN**

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	5. To keep going

**Hey everyone! Sorry it took me so long but here it is!**

**Chapter three: To keep going.**

* * *

**_You simply have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going._**

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back with a burning sensation in his left wrist. He didn't open his eyes, instead he tried to discover where he was. First of all, he was lying on something way softer than the rocks that he had to accustom for all that time. He tried not to move an inch as he breathed in an out…in and out…

He wasn't alone. There were two people with him in that room. The boy snapped his eyes open and sat up too quickly: Lights popped in front of his eyes, his arm burned and he felt sick and giddy. He looked down and saw that his left arm was splinted. "Who did…?" he thought

"Ah, you're awake," a feminine voice said. His eyes came back into focus and he turned towards the owner of the voice. It was a tanned-skinned girl who looked about thirteen. She had brown hair pulled in a ponytail, and brown eyes stared down at him. He wasn't done watching her when she extended her hand.

"I'm Isabel. Are you okay?" the boy was about to ask something when the girl, Isabel, quickly started talking again, nervously. "Well, you obviously aren't okay… Oh, be careful, you have your radius fractured, and if you move too much it will…" he tried to stand up, but pain flared up his wrist, making him gasp. "…hurt you." Isabel finished. "I should have warned you two seconds ago, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, it would've been nice," he answered, observing his surroundings. He seemed to be sitting on a sofa in a trailer, complete with a small kitchen and a door connecting to another room. "You took me here?" he asked, thanking to God his good luck. Instead of being found by Belloc or MEGTAF, a girl apparently brought him to her home. "Wait, did she carry me all the way here all on her own?" he thought a bit shocked. Isabel didn't seem to be very strong.

"We did," came another voice behind them. He turned around and saw a pale boy, with black hair and grey eyes walking towards him from another door.

"Who are you?" the fair-haired boy asked.

"Um…Ken. Kenny Rogers, and you are…?" he left the sentence hanging.

The boy opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to respond. What was his name? Who was he? Was he Valentine or Duncan? Was he the victim or the victimizer? Was he human or Kaiju? Was he the wolf or the lamb? Which one was he? Was he one? Was he all? Or he wasn't any of them?

Deep down, he knew the answer. He smiled a bit at the others.

"Valentine. I am Valentine."

* * *

Anger boiling through his veins, Matthew White leaned against the wall of his room with a sigh.

It was **_unbelievable_**. Un-believable. That jerk had almost **killed** her. Well, not really, but still. A concussion, multiple broken ribs, cracked forearm, and a broken femur. And she had still to wake up.

If only Jake hadn't alerted the teachers, he'd have beaten those gits to a pulp, he'd have make them suffer, he'd…he'd…

His breath got caught in his throat and he slumped onto his bed, closing his eyes. He couldn't shake off his head the image of his baby sister in that hospital, still, white, cold… He should've done something…anything! And now that son of a bitch was roaming around the town leaving with just a suspension of THREE FREAKING DAYS! Matt opened his eyes, rolled on his bed and stared at the one in front of him through black locks.

"You would have beaten those guys to death, wouldn't you?" he asked to the bed.

Matt always found it strange that he talked to that bed sometimes. Vale had always slept besides him, and even now, at fourteen years of age, Matt continued going to sleep knowing something felt wrong. Off. He should still be there, chatting with him until it was very late. Or maybe Lea would still go to his bed, and Matt would wake and smile at the sight, because it had always been that way. It should always be that way.

He talks to it because it was a part of him. And that was better than nothing, he supposed. He sleeps beside it. And sometimes, when he was specially sick or tired or sad or lonely or just plain angry. He know it's crazy. He didn't mean to do it at first, the words just slipped out sometimes. But he started doing it consciously, to have practice, to be able to tell him all the things he'd wanted to when he gets back. Matt crushed viciously the thought of _'if he gets back'_.

"Look, I know you probably don't have a saying in that matter, Vale, but you need to get back here. Lea has been hurt, badly. I tried to stop them, for real, but…well…you're her guardian angel, not me. Try to do it for her, for Le, okay? Or for me! I miss you too, little brother, we all do. I have talked about this many times, but…the letter you left…how could we ever hate you! Make sure you get back soon, Vale. You can heal her, you'll come back soon..." Matt finished. He always felt better after pouring his feeling into that bed. It wasn't anything like Vale or Lea, but it was better than nothing.

"I know you will…" he whispered.

Matt's moment was cut short when his cellphone rang. He slowly picked it up.

"I heard what happened to Lea." Darren's voice exclaimed through it.

"Yeah, thank you for nothing, you useless reptile." Matt growled, his anger back. "I suppose you at least punched one of them?"

The silence confused Matt, but a few seconds later he could hear a very creepy laugh coming through.

"Don't worry," the teen Kaiju said in a way Matt could almost see the slasher smile on his face. "They won't bother her anymore." Again with that laugh. Matt didn't know if he should feel anticipation or fear of Darren's tone of voice.

"What did you do to them?" Matt asked hurriedly.

After the tale, Matthew White was completely sure of one thing: the Kaiju boy may be not so bad after all.

* * *

"We found you passed out near Ken's house, Valentine. I thought you'd been attacked. It's almost a common occurrence." Isabel trailed off.

"How so?" Vale asked, confused. Being attacked was a common occurrence?

"Haven't you heard? A couple of months ago people started going missing…"

"Or simply die, mauled or beaten to death, always in places one wouldn't find them by chance." Kenny added.

"But back to the point, why were you there?" Isabel asked. Vale shifted uncomfortably. What could he tell them? He couldn't, obviously, tell them the truth…or could he?

"I was running away…" he muttered, evading making eye contact with any of them. He decided to use one of Belloc's tactics. He would tell them the truth. He just wouldn't tell them all of it. "My father and I don't…let's say get along." he shrugged. Vale moved his good hand across his left leg, tracing the places where some scars had faded, and some which contrasted against his skin. He briefly wondered if a kid in his situation would say everything so readily, but quickly dismissed that thought. As soon as he left that house he'd continue walking till he reached the city. He had no time to waste.

"He wouldn't really do that?" Isabel asked, horrorstruck, catching the implication.

The way that boy spoke, casual, matter-of-factly, caught both Kenny and Isabel off ward. It was like that kind of treatment had been accepted for so long that he had learned not only to accept it but to expect it. Was it possible that the boy didn't even understand how wrong that was? Obviously he knew it wasn't normal or right, but he seemed to just accept that that was how his father treated him. Did he not understand how horrible it really was? Did he know – beyond the shadow of a doubt – that he didn't deserve that?

Vale sighed.

"That's why I need to leave, okay? The farther away I'm from him, the better." This also wasn't a lie, technically.

"What? You need to rest! You have a broken wrist! At least you could see a doctor or something!" Man, this girl is insistent, Vale thought with a roll of his eyes.

"Are you actually gonna keep me here against my will? I know seven ways of getting out of a room that I'm sure you don't know about."

It had taken him a lot of time, but he had eventually succeeding on freeing himself from the prison-like cave he was most of the time in, the first time he had tried to escape. Of course, he had been caught for trying to escape in the same fashion that his very first one. Looking back, he really should have been more careful, but he wasn't thinking straight. He dreaded it, to sit in the dark without the hope of being released soon, and with urgent needs not knowing the time when somebody would let him out...

Hours in an empty room, not being able to count the passing hours when every second seemed half an hour… knowing full well that his savior would be his tormentor…

"Just where are you going to go when you leave?" Kenny asked, seemingly without realize the hard look Isabel gave him. Ken was staring at Vale as if he had turned into a gory war image. He could not believe that he had been turned into a prisoner –a literal prisoner. It was completely… he couldn't even find a word to fit it.

"I know a place where he won't find me." Vale reassured him. Those kids seemed good people, but he couldn't stay there. "Now, thanks for helping me and all, but I really, really have to go."

"Please!" the girl said, "We want to help you!"

"You can't!" Vale growled back. He had to go; he had to go to his sister. He stood up and started walking towards the door.

"Will you just listen?" Isabel moved in front of him. Vale looked at Kenny, who raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, when Isabel has something decided, there's nothing you can do. Besides, you're pretty battered, mate."

_"She's strong! And scary...I bet she's single...I'd put money on it..."_ Vale thought a bit amused. Out of the blue his legs gave up, making him fall to his knees on the floor. Isabel tried reaching him.

"Leave me alone!" It came out louder that he had intended to…and it came with flames, something that he didn't intend to happen. At all.

Vale felt his mind going numb. Kenny had gone very pale. Isabel's mouth was open and her eyes were huge. Oh God. He had...he really had...

It seems like he would have to stay there for a while after all.

* * *

**Bye! Read, PM, review and spread the word.**


	6. To run

**Well, you know the drill...**

**Reviews make me write faster!**

_**"Run when you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up." **_

* * *

"What the HEEECK?!" Kenny shook him out of his thoughts with his –very high-pitched- shriek. Vale didn't know what to do. He was as surprised as them. _Why this thing has to appear in the worst moments possible?! WHY?!_

"Y-You just…You breathed fire!" the black-haired boy continued with his freak out. "How the hell is that possible?"

"It's kinda difficult to ex…" Vale tried to say, but shut up as his legs failed to respond. He almost burst out laughing, the situation was too bizarre. "H-hey, a little help here? I can't get up." He said, a smile forming slowly on his face. Isabel, who had been staring at him, snapped out of her trance and helped him up.

"I wanna know. It's downright cool! How can you do it?" to Vale's surprise, the girl didn't seem frightened by that abnormal ability, instead she seemed…excited?

"Before I tell you, promise everything we've talked about won't leave this place." Vale said seriously. If he was going to explain this, might as well do it properly.

"Sure, I promise!" Isabel said immediately. Vale looked at Ken with a raised eyebrow. He held the stare for a few seconds before giving in.

"Fine, fine, I promise." He huffed. "Now, if I can ask, just _what_ are you?" Vale smirked, unconsciously rubbing that golden spot in his chest.

"I don't want to push too many preconceptions into your head. You should come up with satisfying answers by yourself..."

"Are you sure you aren't telling me just because I don't have your trust...?" Isabel asked, walking up with a reluctant Kenny to sit on the couch in front of him. Vale rolled his eyes.

"I do trust you, to a certain extent. If I didn't, I wouldn't even tell you this much."

"To a certain extent, huh." Kenny raised his eyebrows at him.

"We just met. Anyway, believe it or not, all of what I have told you until now it's true…" Vale could tell that Kenny was still nervous, so it didn't surprise him that he interrupted in such a manner.

"Are you fucking with us right now...?" Kenny blurted out as Isabel said "Kenny!"

"No, I am not..._effing_ with you right now. I'm telling you the truth."

"Yeah? Then prove it." Kenny said while mustering up a glare at the half-Kaiju. Vale looked at him for a moment, trying to decide a course of action. He let out a sigh though when nothing else came to mind.

"Fine. As I told you, my name's Valentine White. My birth name was Duncan though. My mother's name was Margaret and my father's name is Belloc. Yeah, King of all Kaiju. The same one. I'm half Kaiju. Don't ask me how that's possible, just go with it. My mother died when I was born and I was left as an orphan. The Whites adopted me and I became known as Valentine, or Vale for short. My life was fairly normal for most of it, although the orange, scaly skin wasn't normal. Then things got weird when my family went into the desert one day. That's when I found out I was half Kaiju. And since then I've gone through a whole troublesome mess that's led me up to your doorstep." Vale explained while looking down, pain evident in his eyes.

"What sort of mess?" Isabel asked curiously. Vale looked at her with pain in his eyes.

"I'd prefer not to get into too much detail on that." He panted slightly, feeling a strange heartache. "But I will tell you this. I'm supposed to be this key to a war between humans and Kaiju. And therefore, I've practically got everybody hunting me down. MEGTAF, and other Kaiju. In fact, that's how I ended up here. I escaped and passed out from the pain." Vale said, looking away from the two teenagers. What good are all efforts to leave behind the pain, if his legs were of stone, he could not move and the pain always reached him?

"Wait. So you're telling us that you're a fugitive?" Kenny asked, worry lacing his voice.

"Pretty much. You see why I need to get out of here now?" Vale said with a shrug. Kenny nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I guess I can see why you're so desperate to get home." Kenny said reluctantly.

"Open up! This is the police!" A familiar voice yelled from outside as harsh banging came from the front door. The kids turned their heads at it, suddenly tense.

* * *

"Don't you even dare," the unexpected threat made Matt jump and his cellphone cell to the floor. He gave a surprised gasp and turned around.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just knew you'd try to message your friends with my…story, so I came to tell you not to do it," grey eyes looked apologetically at him.

_That answers one question, yet raises so many others…_

"Usually you'd be eager for others to know your part in that." Matt replied. It was true, sometimes he thought the only thing bigger than Darren was his enormous ego. He sighed.

"Usually. My uncle found out about it, and I got the chewing out of a lifetime. I won't risk another one of those." Darren sighed in annoyance. Matt blinked at him.

"Ren, sorry to tell you, but you are a **freaking Heisha Kaiju**! How can you be scared of your uncle?!" it was just…illogical.

"Have you ever been in the receiving end of your parents' temper?" the Kaiju asked him.

"Surely it couldn't have been _that _bad." Matt recoiled.

Darren turned to face Matt; no emotion was visible on his angular features before he replied seriously.

"Worse." Which made Matt chuckle. _I guess even Kaiju are afraid of something…_

He looked at Darren. Surely the flaw he had to beat was his ego…or his temper? Coming to think about it, what was his? Everyone has a powerful, cunning, stealthy enemy. It is like them, is a part of them; and yet it has nothing to do with them.

Even the most miserable and cruel human being is a warrior, fighting against that part of himself than bends. It is not a easy struggle: the enemy is inside the warrior himself, and knows his weaknesses and fears. He knows where to attack.

The warrior lives on alert because they know that every mistake, every crack of his soul, can sneak the adversary.

Every war is internal. Even when faced with another the warrior fight against that aspect of himself he sees in the other.

* * *

"Oh no. That's definitely not good." Vale whispered.

"That would be our cue to get out of here." Isabel whispered as she started making her way to a window on the other side of the small trailer. Vale followed her slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Kenny copied him. The three teens made it over to a busted out window that was covered in duck tape. Vale took his claws and made quick work of the flimsy tape. The three teens then jumped from the window, thinking they were home free.

How wrong they were.

"Freeze!" The same voice from earlier sounded. The three teens turned around and saw Blitz with several other MEGTAF fighters, all pointing guns at the teens. Said teens backed up some and moved closer together. The tension was thick in the air as the two groups stared each other down. Kenny was trembling with fear, Isabel had a defiant look on her, but still showed signs of fright. While Vale glared angrily at Blitz.

He looked back at Kenny and Isabel.

"I'm gonna distract him. When I give the signal, run!" He whispered harshly. He fully transformed. His features turning into his half Kaiju state, noticing the pain of his wings trying to come through, but held them back. He didn't want another mini-blackout, he thought as he stood tall as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. His body heated the air within him and became fire as he roared out as loud as he could. At the same time he sent out a huge jet of flame that scorched even the rocks as he made a perfect semi-circle around him and the other teens.

"Now!" He yelled as the other two took off as fast as they could. He paused though, from behind the flames, Blitz glared at him before the flames rose up and blocked his view. Vale clenched his teeth as he turned his back to the MEGTAF fighters and ran to catch up to Kenny and Isabel. With his enhanced speed, he easily caught up to them. Even though he was weak and tired, he was still faster than the two human teenagers.

"That was so cool!" Isabel cried out while fist pumping the air. Kenny even had an excited smile on his pale face as he ran. Vale looked at the two of them as they ran. Guess he just made two new friends.

* * *

**Please tell me how it was, just a 'good chapter' if you want**

**Any ideas for the next chapter?**


	7. Down-to-earth

**Guys, I'm really sorry for the lateness of this. But anyway, here's the chapter!**

_**Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering."**_

* * *

Marie went to their room, and Julian followed her. She sat down on the bed, and he sat down beside her.

"I can't believe it. First Vale and now Lea," said Marie as she rubbed her temples. "Though I was sick of seeing her so...lifeless. To think she hasn't been the same since Vale left."

"I know. Her powers being contained, she isn't the same, and now she's in the hospital. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I wonder if we made a mistake. There are days when I wish I could just run away from it all and never look back. Do you ever feel that way?"

"I feel bad for saying it, but yeah, I do sometimes. What if we had chosen differently? We wouldn't have to worry every second if our children are doing something dangerous, or about be killed by a Kaiju, or Vale missing us while being stuck in that hellhole with a monster for a father."

"It's always so stressful, I'm always worried that if I relax even a little something will go wrong."

"I've lost friends over this, we've had to give up so much. I want to believe she can make something of her life, I want to believe Vale might come back and won't worry about anything in a war that isn't his own, and do all the things other people do, but there are nights when I lie awake worrying that he won't be able to go back and Lea might be stuck this way. Sometimes I read again that letter. He tried so hard, but I'm afraid it wasn't enough. And the state Lea's in...People say she'll probably end up in a mental institution, and I fight them on it, but I worry that they're right. She's so smart and talented, but if that lack become too strong for her that won't matter. And if Vale comes back and MEGTAF finds him...if he ever had to be locked up indefinitely in a cage, or if one of those Kaiju were to kill him one day, I don't know what I would do."

"Do you think we bit off more than we could chew?"

"Of course we did, we're idiots! What were we thinking?"

"I guess we were thinking that maybe we could help him. Maybe not consciously, but there's no doubt we wanted to help him get better."

"I just don't know how much more I can take of this. Most of the time I think I could do it forever, but then reality hits me in the face like it did now. All of our children are lost in a way."

"Sometimes I just wish we had our old lives back. Back when it was just you and me and nothing exciting ever happened."

"Do you even remember what normal feels like?" asked Marie.

"My normal compass is skewed beyond repair."

"If only we would have waited until Lea came, we wouldn't have all these problems. Do you remember when Matt was a little kid, how we decided to let a year pass to give Matt a sibling? We thought we'd have a boatload and so we took that year for ourselves, but Lea wasn't coming."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who proposed adopting a kid in the first place. I thought somehow I had become infertile. I had to watch all my friends get pregnant, waiting to get pregnant myself, but Lea wasn't coming. That stubborn girl..." she chuckled for a bit. "Rachel and Dale have four and number five is on the way, and they're all accidents. They never wanted kids, but they got them anyway."

Overwhelmed by the thought of her kids, Marie started to cry, and Julian said, "Come here, you."

He put his arms around her and said, "I never held that against you, Marie. If I had to choose between our family and Rachel and all her kids, I'd choose us any day of the week. And at least this way I can't pass on my shortness to Vale."

Marie laughed and said, "I think my tall genes canceled out your vertically-challenged ones. But I guess we did end up with a big family, really."

Julian laughed, and she laughed with him. "And we can't ever complain about things being boring. There is no such thing as boring in this house."

"I do wonder what it's like, having a normal family. Sometimes I wish ours was, but at this point, I wouldn't even know what to do with a normal kid. My, even Matt is special in a way," said Julian. "You know, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've always thought that, and I still do."

"I'll always love you Julian, even when we're old and gray, which won't be much longer when Vale comes back. That boy is more trouble than he's worth," she said as she kissed him.

"I didn't mean what I said about Vale, I wouldn't trade him for the world, with or without his heritage," said Marie after a while.

"I know, I didn't mean it either. But I can't help thinking that way sometimes, especially on nights like this. I wouldn't want to live in a world where he's not my son, and I'll never regret taking him in."

"My prayers were answered in such a strange way, but I love him so much. I think that if I had the option, having more babies or having Vale, I'd still choose him. Maybe I'm crazy, but it's the truth. Maybe it wasn't the smartest decision, but it was the best one of my life," said Marie.

"Better than me?" he teased.

"It's a tie."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me stay here." Darren looked over at him with a smile.

"Hey, I know what's like to be grounded. Now hush." Matt shushed him, looking at his black pieces. He still couldn't believe that Darren, _Darren_ was actually playing chess with him. He had done it more and more over the years, and started to taught Lea and Darren how to play it. The still hadn't beaten him to this day.

_"Maybe when everything has been resolved, they'll have a chance."_Matt smirked as he saw an opportunity. He moved his Knight. B1 to C3. Darren froze in front of him. He was about to taunt him that he was in such a position when he realized why. His breath hitched as he moved the piece almost in autopilot.

"B1 to C3. That's practically a checkmate, it's impossible to resolve," he muttered emotionlessly. That movement. That movement was what had unchained that sequence of events… What had broken his brother. The reason Lea had been so lifeless since then. The reason Matt would always talk to the bed, instead of to his brother.

"Matt..." came Darren's hesitant voice. "Matt, you okay?"

He stood up, his dark bangs shading his face ominously.

"I am not." Realization clouded his senses.

His brother was missing, his sister in the hospital, Darren and his family were there. People were dying, families were torn apart (even though Troy deserved it).

It was about to burst.

"That war that seemed distant is here," he said like in a trance. Darren just stared at him. WIs not that we're close; we're in it, in the heart of the war." He continued, still clutching the Knight. "We plan, think, and organize our game. We advance, we try on one side, on the other..." he twirled it in his hand. "But the enemy plans too, organizes and advances. It is a feverish struggle, where each side moves its pieces with a single goal." He placed it on the square it was supposed to. "In chess, it all depends on the anticipation, thinking all the moves and possibilities before moving a piece." Missing Darren's turn, he took both the Queen and King, before looking at his friend with damp eyes. "I am a chess player. I see what is coming, I see war, and its deaths."

* * *

"So they want to run?" Barnes asked to no one in particular. "We're going to make them run!"

Kenny was panting like mad as he run for dear life. He was no athlete and would they follow them, he would have easily fallen behind and fallen victim to whatever those guys wanted with them.

"Do we even know if they will hurt us?!" Isabel asked.

"_DO YOU REALLY WANT TO TEST THAT THEORY?!"_ Vale called back.

He squinted at the horizon. What would they do when they reached the city if they continued to chase them? _We can't keep this up forever . . . we will get tired . . . we won't be able to do this much longer . . . what now, what now, what now!?_

"WE ARE ACCOMPLISHING NOTHING!" Isabel screamed.

"WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO!?" Vale yelled back.

"ANYTHING THAT'S ACTUALLY GOING TO GET RID OF THEM!"

"_THEY'RE GAINING ON US!_" Kenny shrieked.

Vale looked back, frowning in worry. Their chasers seemed to be in good physical condition, they didn't seem to fall behind at all. Would they actually use their weapons against them? When they were fighting Belloc, he hadn't done anything to attack them. Right now, he had breathed fire at them to defend himself and his friends. He looked at Kenny and Isabel.

If he had been alone, he'd have tried to completely outrun them, no flying of course. But he was with them now, who knew what MEGTAF could to them. There had to be a way to hide, but how? How? How? How?

He heard a noise and looked at its source. The hoarse scream bubbling in Vale's throat was swallowed back thickly. He had a very good reason for doing that. Isabel and Kenny followed his gaze. It almost looked like a crack had appeared right in front of their eyes. It looked like the air had suddenly cracked open, even though they believed that such a thing was impossible. The human teens soon noticed that Vale was losing color extremely fast. They knew that whatever could make Valentine, a half-Kaiju pale, it didn't mean anything good.

"Valentine, what's happening? What's that?" Isabel asked worriedly.

Vale's eyes moved toward her before going back to stare at the crack that was starting to extend, letting the trio look what seemed to be behind the very air, a black hole, nothing but the blackest darkness.

_"No…"_ Vale flinched instantly when he saw it, recoiling as if burnt; brown eyes slowly dilating in shock and horror. _"No…not now…not when I'm so close…"_

But, if his theory was correct, why was Belloc letting him know that he had found him? He didn't catch his scent anywhere. He was too shocked to stop running, too frightened to scream, to do anything than keep running, from one danger to another…or was it?

He felt his left foot stepping on something, and the land beneath his feet began to crack and shake. Everything happened within seconds. They had no time to react. When they tried to move, under their feet a huge gap opened, which devoured Isabel, Valentine and Kenny.

* * *

**So, how was it? Review!**


	8. Depths

**Guys, my parents gave me the computer for the weekend only, so I managed to write this.**

_**Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand**_

* * *

The fall was endless. As they were swallowed in a dense, humid darkness, amid cries of terror, the three of them tried to cling to each other in desperation. When they were beginning to believe that the crack truly had no end, their bodies crashed against the ground, which emanated a strong smell of sulfur.

Vale landed hard, straight on his wrist. Agony cursed through him and it was all he could do to clench his teeth to prevent the scream, his good hand tightening his grip on Isabel. Frantically he shifted so his wrist wasn't trapped under his body. It didn't make much difference.

"Guys, you okay?" He asked with tears in his eyes. He heard a gasp, Isabel, he recognized, when she saw a pair of green eyes showing suddenly. "Don't worry, it's me." Vale reassured her.

"What happened? Where are we?" Kenny asked while trying to get up.

"Inside the lair." Vale answered quietly as he and Isabel stood. "I think. I had no idea it was this big. Don't worry, if there had been any Kaiju near I would have noticed." _And we would be probably dead or worse by now_, he thought. He sensed some movements to his left. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Isabel answered. "I was looking for my cellphone." how that thing survived the fall, Vale didn't know. He watched as Isabel turned it on, its faint light iluminating the place they had landed in.

"Do you think is a good idea? What if a Kaiju see the light?" Kenny asked. Vale looked at them. Besides being dusty and with a few scratches, they seemed to be okay.

"Nah, they'll smell us anyway." Kenny looked at him with wide eyes.

"Reassuring." he told him sarcastically.

"I think I'm gonna call my parents." Both Vale and Kenny stared at Isabel.

"And what will you tell them? 'Hi Mom, I got swallowed by the earth along with Kenny, can you come for me? Oh I forgot, there's this weird Kaiju kid who needs a lift.'" Kenny mimicked. "No offence." he said to Vale.

"None taken." he shrugged as Isabel sighed in disappointment.

"No signal. Obviously." she dwelled on that for a few seconds before recovering. "Now what do we do?" she turned to Valentine. "Aren't you the expert in this kind of stuff?"

"Me? You seem to know more than I do." seeing Isabel's frowning face, he quickly continued. "I don't know. If there's a way down, there has to be a way up. Might as well look for it."

Kenny laughed a little hysterically. "So we'll just wander around looking for the exit in the lair of the Kaiju? How did we get here in the first place?"

"I don't have a better idea. About how did we got here, I thought a Kaiju had found me, but it doesn't seem like it. Besides, this doesn't look like the lair." Yes, Kaiju had passed through it, but very briefly and some time ago. "We're...I don't know where we are." a silence passed between them.

"Well, shall we start looking for the exit?" Isabel asked akwardly. Both boys nodded.

"You're right." And they set off.

* * *

She couldn't feel her body, couldn't see anything. The blackness was driving her crazy. It was as if it was closing on her, she couldn't breathe. How long had she been like this? Lea had gone over that over and over again, but couldn't seem to remember the events leading to her…state? What could have happened to her to not to wake up? Was she dead? No, if she was she wouldn't be able to feel that cold within her.

Lea closed her eyes so she could pretend she was elsewhere instead of this endless darkness. She lay there what seemed like forever when she thought she sensed something changing. She didn't know exactly what, but she was sure something was different.

Lea had a sudden epiphany. _"Something's not right."_

_"Bit of an understatement there, Lea."_

_"That voice…that voice sounds so familiar…"_ she said to herself, before doing what she could only tell was an imitation of shaking her head.

That voice wasn't Valentine, it was just a memory. Her mind was playing tricks on her again. When her brother had just left, she would often have dreams of them together, daydream of them, she even could hear him sometimes when she was too distraught. Lea had talked to her parents about that, and when she saw her expressions she could tell something was wrong. Coming to think about it, whenever the spell matured, they would feel their emotions, and in extreme cases, see each other. Never hearing, never those conversations again. Gone.

That's when Lea had started to wonder if they were going crazy. Who said being separated didn't have psychological reactions? But that change, that change within her…

She focused on where she thought the shifting would be, and pushed. It wasn't physical, but just force of will. She wanted that change to continue, and not to stop so soon. The darkness around her seemed to get even colder and she could feel herself getting incredibly tired and slipping away from…whenever she was.

"_No! I won't sleep! I can't leave yet, I want to know what this means!"_ she yelled, causing whatever that was pulling her to release her. She focused on that change once more until she could hear something in the background.

"_Ah, please don't tell me I'm helping my mind to snap._" She said to no one in particular. Her suspicious seemed to be confirmed when she heard again the voice of his brother, coming towards her now in whispers, his presence nearer, warmth on her chest….

One second…

Warmth?

Was that what the change is? What had happened?

More and more questions rang through her head, but she couldn't find answers. She felt really tired after that effort. Something was telling her to just relax and go to sleep. Maybe she would. But until then, she'd just stay there, and wait.

* * *

"Hey, you okay?" Darren heard. He looked up and found his uncle sitting in front of him. After Matt's little trance or whatever that was, he had gone straight to his home. Matt really looked to need some time to himself. The thing was, now there was nothing to distract him from the thoughts that planned his mind.

"You were zoning out." Rîus explained. "What is troubling you?"

"I'm not troubled."

"You always were an open bood, Dyllon..."

Darren took a deep breath. "Lea's the problem, it's her!" he didn't even relieve in the satisfaction of seeing his Uncle completely speechless for once in his life. "Since she was attacked...I can't focus on anything!" Sure, Darren had always known Lea and Valentine were one of the most important reasons he decided to go back, but this...this was something else. "She needed someome to protect her, and I failed her." He never talked about his bloody feelings with anyone, but now he couldn't stop. He knew Lea had only been attacked yesterday, but he also knew it shouldn't be affecting him this deeply. "I...I'm suffering! And I don't know _why_ I'm suffering!"

Rîus just stood there with a knowing look.

"What?" his nephew asked. "You know what's wrong?"

"Yes."

Darren waited until it was clear he wasn't going to answer. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Don't worry about it, Lea will wake up soon. And no." With that he left, leaving a completely confused Darren behind

* * *

**So, how was it? Review!**


	9. A matter of trust

**My parents gave me the computer again for the week of holidays of spring! Woohoo!**

**_Learning to trust is one of life's most difficult tasks._**

* * *

Isabel's head was spinning for the recent events on her life. To think it all had started when she didn't see her friend around, not knowing where he was, and with all the attacks recently, panic had grappled with fear. She couldn't imagine anything happening to Kenny, and so she had launched herself to look for him, away from the trailer, into the desert.

When she had finally seen her best friend with such an expression on his face, she had run over to him, completely disregarding any danger he could still be in.

Kenny had her attention refocused, however, with a desperate, wide-eyed expression, as he looked at an unconscious boy about their age, who looked to be thoroughly beaten.

'Help me with him. We could take him home, he has nowhere to go'.

They had rushed to Kenny's home then, mysterious blonde haired boy in tow, worry marring their faces. The unconscious state of the boy had made them concerned.

Once they had arrived home, they had carried the poor boy over to the couch. Isabel had then set to work, trying to heal him as best she could. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot else she could do to help him, since she was no medical expert. When he awoke, Isabel could get a better look at his condition, and she didn't like what she saw.

The gauntness of the boy's cheeks, like those of a dying man, told tales of starvation and hunger, the likes of which no one should ever experience. From what she could see of his skin, he had orange skin, but it was difficult to tell because of the layers of mud and grime that caked his face and hair.

He was small, and the clothes he was wearing were ragged and old. Clearly they did not fit him. He had no shirt covering his body, and she could see scars and bruises in various states of healing. His trousers were clearly too small for him. They stopped well short of the boy's ankles, revealing a pair of dirty socks, and the trousers were worn within an inch of their life, holey, ripped and covered in everything from mud to an odd brown substance that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

When they had found him, he hadn't even been wearing shoes.

Kenny's words came back to her once again.

_He's got nowhere to go._

Then he had started talking to them, confirming Isabel's and possibly Kenny's suspicions about his home life. He had tried to go, but she hadn't let him. She felt inexplicably linked to the boy with brown eyes. It was something in his eyes, she decided, something so hurt, as if his vey soul was screaming from help.

_He has nowhere to go._ She suspected he didn't have _anyone _either.

When they had learned of his heritage, ok, she didn't see that coming. She had been ecstatic at first, thinking someone could answer all her questions, but remembering her new friend's state, she thought better about it. Who knew what he could have been forced to experience?

They had to take him with his family. No matter what it took, Isabel swore she'd take him with them. She didn't regret running away with him. Not one bit. She knew Kenny and her barely knew him, but something within her told her Valentine was trustworthy.

* * *

"How old are you?" Kenny asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them, effectively jerking both Isabel and Vale out of their thoughts.

"I'm ten." Was the quick reply. Isabel and Kenny stopped walking and looked at him. There was no way he could be ten, but if he said so…

"You are quite tall for a ten-year-old, you know." Kenny told him, a small widening of his eyes betraying him.

"That's the age I was when…when I had to go with Belloc." He spoke as if he was being forced into it, Isabel noticed with a frown. "I don't know how much time I've been…" he trailed off as he looked at Isabel's cell phone. "Are we still in March?" he asked cautiously. Kenny seemed to be having a hard time hiding his shock.

"We're in February." Was the chocked reply at the sudden awareness of what Valentine's life must've been like. Said halfbreed's eyes darkened and his steps seemed to become heavier.

"Could you give me that cell phone, Isabel? I need to check on something." Shaky hands handed him the tool, received with similar ones. They heard him gasp and noticed he was losing color.

"Vale? A-Are you okay?" Isabel asked cautiously. Vale looked at her with such an intensity Isabel went quiet.

"Dear God, what did I do…" he whispered in anguish. "Three years…"

Three years. That amount of time seemed to weight down on him.

Three years. He had been in that hellhole for so long, and he didn't even know it. Wasn't that what he wanted, to run away from his family as long as possible?

He didn't want that, he wanted to go back with them. Three years be damned, he had to focus on the task he was now.

"How long this can be?" Isabel groaned after a really long pause. They had been walking nonstop the entire time. Her feet ached and she was really tired.

"I don't really know. You know, the more we walk, the more I'm convinced this isn't the lair." Vale said after a pause. It was true, they hadn't found any Kaiju, or any form of living whatsoever. "Seems more like a huge...tunnel or something to me..."

Whatever was the case, he was very concerned about the lengths of this cave. He didn't know how much time they'd resist without food or water. He sighed, unconsciously running a hand through his hair, before slipping to touch the white line that moved down his cheek and neck. The only other scar Belloc had given him.

_"No, I'm not thinking about that!"_ he thought fiercely. He became aware that his hands had curled into fists and he made a conscious effort to relax them. He looked to his -dare he say it?- friends. He could tell they were tired; he wasn't in his best physical shape either.

"We should rest somewhere. We won't be able to keep up much longer." Kenny voiced Vale's thoughts. "There are a lot of holes and rocks here, we could rest there."

That shook Vale from his train of thoughts. He thought if perhaps he went to bed early that night, he could actually get some sleep before having to fight anything. But now...

_"There aren't any Kaiju near, I won't need to fight anything. Plus, I have a broken wrist, what good can come from that? Idiot!"_ he growled to himself. Realization hit him. If he couldn't beat a Kaiju while he was fine, how he was supposed to manage the way he was now?!

"You're doing that again." Isabel told him as they approached to a separation between two rocks that would be their home for the night.

"Doing what?"

"Thinking about something too serious. Once in a while your eyes become sad." she said concernedly.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." he assured her as she crawled after Kenny. Vale swiftly followed her, suppressing a shudder at his surroundings. Thankfully it was bigger than his own 'bedroom' but it still made his breath speed up a bit.

"So, Vale," Kenny began uncomfortably, trying to ignore the fact that Vale was sat as far away from the bottom of the hole as humanly possible. "How do you feel? Izzy tried to heal you, and...well, she's not an expert..." Once again ignoring the look '_Izzy_' gave him.

"I feel better," Vale answered, interrupting Kenny's ramblings. "My wirst still hurts...but...I'm okay."

He shrugged, but pain erupted in his shoulder and he couldn't prevent a groan, his hand moving quickly to try to suppress the pain, squeezing the area tightly.

"Yeah, and I'm a hairy frog," Kenny muttered off-handedly, and his tone was so matter of fact, his expression so normal, that Vale couldn't help it.

He giggled.

It bubbled out of him, escaping from some place deep inside of him where it had been hiding for all these years.

Isabel and Kenny smiled, and soon they joined Vale in fits of giggles that made the three of them look much more their age, much younger than they had only moments before. It felt good to laugh, and Vale felt something release inside of himself, like some long lost forgotten memory, finally resurfacing.

After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter, and after a few deep breaths, Vale managed to calm himself enough to speak. Turning on his spot, his face straight once again, he looked at the laughing teens and smiled, his first true smile in a long time.

Something had changed between them. It was almost as if he had found someone who was on his side. Almost like friends.

He didn't want to be alone anymore, and that thought alone scared him. He had tried to desensitize himself from the world, to try to push aside the memories of his family for it would hurt too much , and to put his trust in people he didn't even know would take a bravery Vale wasn't even sure he possessed.

After observing the blond-haired boy for a few moments, and noticing the faraway look of his eyes, Kenny and Isabel decided that maybe Vale needed a few moments to himself.

"I'm kind of lacking on social skills," Vale said quietly, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground, uncertainty clear in his demeanor. It was true, all that time without a variety of real people had left him to wonder how he hadn't go mad from the isolation. "I might not be a good friend, you know."

"You've already saved my life," Isabel said, as she looked over to the boy in understanding.

"You saved mine before." Vale protested

"And you laughed at my joke." Kenny added. "That makes you a pretty good friend in my book."

Vale looked at them, and noting not only the sincerity in their words, but the truthfulness in their eyes, he nodded slowly, a smile creeping back onto his face.

"Hairy frogs?" Vale asked quietly with a small grin, trying to look serious but failing miserably.

Kenny snorted, and they fell about laughing again, worries and concerns forgotten for the moment.

It felt good to laugh at something so silly, and for now Vale let himself enjoy it.

He let himself forget.

* * *

**I'm SO sorry for this is just a scene, I couldn't think of anything else to write!**


	10. Awake

**Okay, it had taken a lot for me to get this done, enjoy it!**

_**Arise! Awake! and stop not until the goal is reached.**_

* * *

Vale eyed the limp forms of Isabel and Kenny, the composed breathing told him they were sound asleep. A small smile made its way across his face. Maybe it wasn't so bad being with them... he knew they were doing him good. It had seemed the first time in a long time he had actually _smiled_\- actually _laughed_.

He looked in annoyance at his splinted arm. What a bother. He really needed to be in full health – or at least not very injured – for trying to escape from the whenever they were in. He needed to be healed, but there was nothing he could do…or could he?

Vale hesitated. The skill he had acquired wasn't tested enough yet, there were many things that could go wrong. He had obtained it in the long run, he supposed, after a very bad beating. By that point, he wasn't even attempting to resist, instead lying there like a ragged doll, absorbing most of the blows Belloc rained down upon him. The lack of bones breaking, and the fact that blood merely dribbled rather than splattered, indicated that _something_ was up.

As the stress and demands of the moment faded, grief and pain had begun to well up within his heart. It was, he had learned, a common after-affect of intensely stressful situations; the human mind and body would go into survival mode and shut down extraneous thoughts and emotions until the crisis had passed. Then, as the urgency and demands of the moment faded, everything that was shunted aside would come pouring back in. It was, in essence, a form of shock.

He had come a little less hurt each time, he had taken less time to recover. That was definitely an improvement.

_I did it to survive._ Nothing particularly bad had happened.

Vale held himself in a tight ball, and _focused_. He could feel it within him, moving in spastic spurts and starts to his force of will. Unfortunately, he could not direct it very well, though he could shape it to a purpose if his concentration was not broken.

He bit his lip in order to not scream, as he waited to feel his bones mending themselves. It was taking a longer time that usual to heal, not that broken bones were an easy task. It should start soon, or he was in danger of exhausting himself too much.

Finally…finally…he had done it. Vale smiled as he moved his left hand, a somewhat grimly satisfied expression that carried a hint of a smirk with it as well. It slipped off his face as he felt absolutely worn out.

It was going to be a long night, but really, was that all that unusual?

"It isn't," he muttered despondently to himself as he prepared for the night.

* * *

**The next day...**

Nick Liam was bored. He had invited Darren and Kia, alongside Maia which was normally a good thing. It meant semi-regular hours doing homework, joking around and discuss whatever had happened to Troy yesterday, being able to kick back and have fun however boredom had set in. Homework was boring. Listening to Maia was even more boring. Kia refusing to help distract him added to the boredom. So with nothing to do and nothing interesting to distract him, Nick Liam was bored.

Little known fact, bored Nick Liam led to immature Nick Liam. Immature Nick Liam liked to bother and annoy people just for kicks and there was one thing he did which was his specialty.

It started quietly, barely more than a whisper but Nick was grinning while he did it and after a few verses, he started getting louder.

"_I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves and this is how it goes. I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves and this is how it goes. I know a son-"_ Nick kept singing until he got Maia and Darren's attention.

Darren rolled his eyes. Between his uncle, his failed test and the worry about Lea, he wasn't in the mood for this. Not. At. All.

Whilst Maia gave him a confused look and tried to ignore it, Darren was more direct.

"What are you doing?" Darren asked. Nick had been singing that constantly for the past five minutes and it was starting to bug him.

"Singing." Nick replied. "_I know a song-"_

"Why are you singing?" Darren cut in again, trying to keep him distracted so he would stop freaking singing.

"Bored." Nick answered with a grin. "Why? Is it bugging you?"

"What do you think?" Darren retorted, feeling the pangs of an incoming headache. '_I am a Kaiju. I need to control my temper. I can handle this.'_ He thought to himself. It was still fairly early days for him to really starting interacting with those humans, so having Nick unexpectedly start singing because he was bored was not something he was used to. _Yet._ A voice in his head added and he squashed that thought. This could not be a regular thing.

"Good." Nick smirked and started singing again. "_I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves and this is how it goes. I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves and this is how it goes."_

"How can you put up with this?" Darren asked Maia who pointed to her ears. Whilst Darren and Nick had been talking, she had had the foresight to stick ear plugs in her ears. Living next to Nick over the past three years meant the girl was prepared. The three of them were the only people in the room, as Kia just was downstairs fetching one of her notebooks so it was just him stuck having to deal with Nick and his singing.

"_I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves and this is how it goes."_ Nick slid his chair over towards Darren and slid back before he could hit him. All the while he kept singing and occasionally tossing scraps of paper or pen caps at Darren and Maia, trying to gauge a reaction out of them. Maia was in her own little world but flinched when paper or pen lids hit her and she could see Darren was fighting to regain control of his temper.

"_I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES. I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES AND THIS IS HOW IT GOES._ _I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES. I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES AND THIS IS HOW IT GOES._ _I KNOW A-"_ Nick had was almost yelling at this point and had finally gotten Maia and Kia's attention, and Darren finally snapped, getting to his feet and grabbing Kick by the throat, not tight enough to cut off his breathing but enough for him to make his point.

"I swear to God Nicholas, one more word out of you and I'll make it look like an accident!" Darren threatened as Kia walked into the room and wasn't even fazed at the sight of Darren having Nick by the throat.

"Ren why are you strangling Nick?" Kia asked rubbing her temples. The last thing she needed was to cover up a murder by one of her friends.

"He won't stop with the _'I know a song_'. He's been doing it for the past half hour. I'm a patient person Kia but I have limits." Darren replied, still holding onto Nick's throat and ignoring his attempts to pull his hand away.

"Alright, Darren stop strangling Nick. Nick stop with the singing and grow up." Maia finally spoke. Darren let go of Nick's throat and sat back down. Nick rubbed his throat and grinned at Darren, still feeling a spark of immaturity in him.

"Hey Ren," Nick began but Darren gave him a death glare.

"Don't even think about it." He warned.

Nick, wisely, stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

* * *

Matt had been lying down on the bed when he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell downstairs. He opened his eyes and looked at the clock. 11:10 AM on a Saturday. Might as well start the day.

Not even bothering to dress himself, he got up from bed, went downstairs, into the hall and opened the door even before his mother could arrive to where he was.

"Hello Matthew…erm, is this a bad time?" that comment made for the girl got Matt to realize he was in full look I-Just-Got-Up-From-Bed. Sighing to himself, he shook his head at the girl.

"Oh, I found your dog near my house, and came to give him to you." The blonde haired, grey eyed girl said.

_Dog? We haven't got a…_ Matt's thoughts were cut off when he saw said dog. The same brown furred, dark eyed dog that Lea adored, with the difference that it had a homemade collar on his neck, meaning a rope hanging loosely with a sign that Matt kneeled down to see.

KOBU

WHITE FAMILY. 103, GRENT STR-

EET, BELVIEW, CALIFORNIA.

All this written with a calligraphy Matt recognized immediately.

_When did Lea did this_? "Yes, Jenna, thanks for bringing Kobu. Lea's gonna be delighted when she wakes." _Only Lea would automatically accept we'll take him in…knowing Mom, we will…_

* * *

When Lea next woke, it was a slow, gradual progression. It took some minutes for her to form a coherent awareness of her surroundings and pattern of thought. She was resting on a soft surface, covered in a blanket, but the air beyond the blanket was uncomfortably cool. She opened her eyes, and found herself on a bed. Judging by the impersonal cleanliness and white-dominated coloration of her surroundings, she was fairly certain she was in a hospital bed at that. Entering a hospital was a first for her.

She tried moving her body, but found her right leg in a cast. Strange, she had a blurred feeling of being in pain, but now, nothing hurt anymore. She had a slight headache, but that was it.

She was cut out of her thoughts when she noticed a nurse staring at her, then bolting out of the room.

"…What happened?"

* * *

"Matthew, stop playing with that dog and come inside!" Julian yelled as he watched his oldest son running around with the dog.

"Let him play with Kobu a little longer. I haven't seen his this happy in a while." Marie answered him with a smile. Julian was about to answer when his cell phone rang.

"Julian White, who's talking?"

"Mr White, I'm Doctor Andrews, from the hospital." Julian felt his breath hitch. Had something go wrong with his baby girl? "Your daughter is awake."

"What? How is she, is she okay, when…" the doctor cut off Julian's frantic questions.

" I don't know how this is possible, but...all of your tests came back normal. There's absolutely no chance of her dying from those wounds. She isn't even injured now, she doesn't have any sequels of the concussion. Looks like she's a bit of a medical mystery. You can visit her if you like."

Julian hung up the phone and looked at Marie, a bright smile on his face.

"Lea's awake."

* * *

**Just for you to know, guys, I'm with exams, so don't expect an update soon!**


	11. Knowledge

**There it is! Another chapter! Also check my Deviantart account, Valedragoness, I have some fanart of this fanfic!**

_**Knowledge is power, both the knowledge that one does possess, and the knowledge that one doesn't. That which you know can be used to your advantage, and that which you do not know can cost you dearly.**_

* * *

Darren Wakeman grinned wickedly as he took sight of Troy's completely bruised appearance. The other students were looking at him with shock and horror, but Troy's response as to what had happened to him had been 'I don't remember'. Did he remembered, but chose not to tell, or Darren had gone a little over-the-top with the little beat up? Either way, the feeling of satisfaction did not vanish.

"I knew something had happened, but I didn't know it was something like that!" Kia said in alarm.

"Serves the bastard right." Darren said viciously.

"Yes, that idiot hurt Lea." Maia took his side. Afterwards they didn't have the opportunity to talk, because Miss Spina had entered the classroom.

"Lucky Matthew…" Darren's whisper was dripping with annoyance. "Having the meeting for the report cards today…" he growled out again as he impatiently tapped his school chair with his fingers.

"Not having to go to school for a day…" Nick sighed dreamily while staring without seeing the whiteboard.

"Not having to copy anything…" Kia added with a smirk as she brushed dark hair off her face.

"What about not having to endure Mrs. Spina? That witch hates me!" Maia joined in as the bell rang. _Speak of the devil and he shall appear_, Darren thought as said teacher addressed his friend.

"Maia Liam, where is your write up of the previous three classes?" Spina demanded, Maia glanced at Nick, Darren and Kia before turning to Spina, looking at the woman in disbelief.

"Well considering I spent half this month with my writing hand broken and the other copying as much as I could, I doubt there is much I can say about this." Maia retorted sharply, making a point to even rub the –now without a cast—hand to prove her point.

"You are still on thin ice Liam, and I still have the power to notify your parents if you are not careful. Is that understood?" Spina claimed sternly and Maia nodded.

"Yes Ma'am." Maia said in her politest _'Screw you' _tone. Spina glared at the students again before walking up to Troy's seat, probably to give him yet another ear-bashing, oblivious to the glares the four teens were giving her as they exited the classroom. "God I hate her."

"Me too," Kia said heavily. "I try and see some good in people but her, I just can't."

"I know she's just doing her job but there's limits." Nick added and looked at Maia. "If you want I can do that for you."

"I think I should. You heard her after all," Maia replied before performing a mocking but accurate impression of Spina. "_You're still on thin ice Liam._ Bitch."

"What was that? Maia Liam, come here. Now!" Spina demanded as she and the black-and-blue Troy came out of the classroom, glaring at Maia.

"Shit," Maia muttered under her breath before getting up and following Spina. Just at that moment, Darren's cell phone rang.

"Darren, I have excellent news." Matt's voice said before he could utter anything.

* * *

Isabel was suddenly jerked away from her sleep by sudden screams. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she was in she could make a shape screaming and convulsing uncontrollably. The shape was very far away from her, from the bottom of their shelter. Valentine.

Briefly wondering where Kenny was, Isabel reached for her cell phone to get a better view of him, but couldn't find it. All she could do was try to approach her friend as he trashed around. What he cried weren't tears. What he felt wasn't pain. What came oozing out of his mouth wasn't a scream, it wasn't a gasp, it was not sadness. It was a deep, bottomless despair.

By now Valentine's shrieks had left him and he had been reduced to begging in a weak voice. The words 'please' and 'no more' were the most common, until finally it reduced to occasional whimpers. It was all it took to Isabel to move, frozen in fear as she was. As she moved towards him, she realized his eyes were faintly glowing amber instead of green. Maybe _he can't see me_, Isabel thought as she took Vale's slightly glazed eyes looking at the ground.

"Hey…" she whispered as she hesitantly touched his arm, covered in sweat. Noticing her proximity reduced the boy to incoherent whimpers as he was overtaken by renewed terror. "It's me, it's me! Isabel, remember?"

She tried not to sigh in relief as his eyes came back to been green. Slightly hazed, confused green, but he was quiet at least.

The events of the previous days came back to him, and he remembered the last bit of information he had learned. He was Valentine White, he had been in that hellhole for almost three years, he was twelve years, thirteen in the next month. It was sickening to realize how much time he had lost, and he didn't even know it.

"I-Isabel…? Wha-What…?" He was quickly silent again as they both heard footsteps approaching their hiding place. With hitched breath, their eyes glued to the entrance of the cave where a dim light could be seen...

…Just as Kenny came running inside, cell phone in hand.

"What happened? I heard screams. What happened?" said Kenny, frowning when he saw Vale was stiff with terror, the look in his eyes made him want to look behind himself to see if there was someone there, but he knew there wasn't.

"Nightmare. What were you doing outside?!" Isabel asked him.

"Probably looking for an exit, which is what we should be doing now." Vale said, having recovered some of his composure. In truth, Vale thought later as they walked again, he was now borderline panicked. His friends had lasted a night without food or water, which they needed badly. It was his third day without food, it wouldn't go unnoticed.

He wondered how much distance they had managed to cover. If they were still in the desert, he'd have to hunt for food or something, he wouldn't dare risk their lives any further. They couldn't be hurt because of him, despite him being younger than they were, he felt as though they were his responsibility now. Now, coming back to the topic, it would all depend of the distance between the city and whenever they ended up. Now, there was to resolve how they would get out…

_When has my life become so colorless, I wonder..._

"…are you okay?" Isabel's voice shook him out of his thoughts. Vale took a moment to study her before answering. Isabel was always worrying about him –the reason why was an enigma to him— while Kenny preferred to have actions before choices. He stored that thought to ask later as he faced the girl.

"About what?"

"You know…" she trailed off. "The nightmare. Wanna talk about it?" Oh. So that's why she was worrying so much.

"Don't you worry, I have had worse." The casual way Valentine said this disturbed Isabel. There was an ease, behind his words, the kind of ease that came from long practice. Kenny and Isabel shared a look that said the unvoiced feeling of wrongness they felt.

"Why did you want to help me when we met?" Vale suddenly asked, and for his expression, they knew he was genuinely confused.

"You were unconscious, and looked like you had escaped from a torture chamber. You can't blame us for being concerned." Kenny exaggerated a bit on his expression. Vale didn't acknowledge it, though. It had really been torture. "Why do you even ask?" at the question Vale took a few minutes to think. He let out a sigh when he realized the cause of his question.

He was tired, fed up, sick with that torment. Had Lea's vision given him the hope he needed to perform such an act, or it had been the last straw? A person could only take so much abuse, after all, before striking back. Was it what it had been? An act of rebellion? He had lived terrified of that monster…nothing made sense anymore.

"You…you don't understand. Sometimes, I'd grow desperate. I'd…always thought I wanted to be saved by someone… However, I realized. Someone wouldn't just come miraculously to save me. I had to do it myself. I had no choice…but to save myself." He sighed, feeling rather than seeing the stared of the two teens.

They didn't understand, Vale hoped they would never understand. They didn't need to worry about the war, either.

…what's to say he did have to? He remembered his Dad –not that motherfucking monster, his Dad, his real Dad— would sit at the kitchen table and rant about child soldiers, it was because an article on a newspaper, he thought. But Vale had learned one thing about his speech:

Children do not belong in war.

Children are not supposed to risk their lives at anyone's cause.

And yet, that would be what everyone would try to do once he 'reappeared'. He would have to think about that. But first things first. How exactly would they get out of there? Without much thinking, he took a few steps forwards and he sucked in a breath and blew fire at the rock ceiling. The abruptness of it made Kenny scream again and Isabel stop on their tracks.

Nothing happened.

"Damn." Vale said, resolving to try different methods until it opened.

Moving himself carefully into the exact position he had been in as best as he could remember, he closed his eyes, and fixed his attention on the ceiling of rocks. After all, he was sure those kind of things didn't happen by chance. In the background he could hear Isabel…_Isabel_ teasing Kenny.

"It was sudden! I thought I would be burned alive!"

"And you decided to scream." It didn't take a genius to figure Isabel was holding back her laughter. Vale felt sorry about Kenny, poor guy had to endure the girl's teasing.

"It took me by surprise!" Kenny defended

"Like a little girl?"

"My voice is **changing**!"

_Oh my God_, this time Vale had to suppress a snigger.

"Nine, maybe ten years old. I'm seeing pigtails, frilly skirt..." Toning down the noises, he finally focused on the task he had.

"Open," He said quietly to himself.

Nothing happened.

"Damn," Vale said, opening his eyes and scowling up at the ceiling.

_Open_, he thought.

Nothing happened.

"Damn," Vale said.

There was one theme that he found that he had not attempted to tie into his experimentation at all yet; emotion. Desperation, fear, anger, powerful emotions were what had driven Vale to try to protect his body, untrained and weak as it was.

Vale stood there and tried to recall the fear that had driven him during the chase. It was not as simple as he expected; the fear hid away from his conscious mind, not wanting to come open and alive within him. For several long minutes, Vale simply stood there, shocked and confused at things that rebelled within him, and his undersized body began to tremble as the fear washed through him in spite of his own subconscious desire to hide from it. His inborn fight or flight instincts screamed at him to find the threat so he could run away from it…

Snarling aloud, Vale focused on where he was, then on the ceiling, and closed his eyes, and then...

He felt tired.

A gap had opened.

Vale looked at his now silent friends. "Shall we start climbing?"

* * *

**Don't know if this is good enough...review please!**


	12. Allies

**Hello guys! H. E. B. here! I have another chapter for you. Before I get confused reviews, this site hasn't let me update a document the normal way, so this is...bad. As soon as this site lets me I'll upload the revised version.**

**_An Ally is the one who come to save us even from ourselves_**

* * *

Worn out. He felt worn out as he helped Kenny to climb the last meters. They had almost fallen quite a few times. A throbbing pain in his chest was slowing him down, but he couldn't back off now. A push, come on…Isabel's hand helping both up…and brightness blinding him. _"The sun."_ exclaimed his mind, amazed. _"The sun."_

While helping Kenny up, Vale looked at the crack. It was quite big, five people could get into it. He briefly wondered why that web of tunnels was for, but he decided to worry about it in a later date. Right now, he had to go to the city…no matter the cost.

"The worst is over, isn't it?" he managed a tired smile at his friends, who returned them.

"I'm not done for this like of exercise." Kenny wheezed. The other two had to agree, it had been exhausting. Vale looked at the city and smiled. _"Almost there, White, almost there."_

"What are we waiting for? We gotta go!" Kenny's excited smile was enough for them to start walking again. So close, so close…

"What are you going to do when we get back?" Vale asked, glancing at the crack in the sand. It hadn't closed. MEGTAF would be busy with this, he hoped.

"I suppose we're going to my house. Make up some story to why we were missing for…a day?" Isabel answered while tidying her hair. Suddenly Vale brought a hand to his chest. The pain was increasing at alarming speed. Red flags raised in his mind, now what?

"You okay?" Kenny's voice asked.

"Yes…no…I don't know. Hurts." He wheezed out, blackness slowly surrounding him.

_Suddenly it was all he saw. _

_Pain. A ripping pain._

_But it felt good…somehow…_

_Anger- why can't he leave me alone-_

_A familiar figure. Red hair, green eyes._

_"Le!"_

_"You did it! You escaped!"_

_"I'm sorry I ran away. You must know why by now."_

_"Next time, tell me if you want to protect me. Was there any way of you not doing something so…stupid?"_

_"I don't know. I don't know. Why did I have to? Why couldn't anybody else do anything?"_

_No answer. Silence, but acceptance._

_They embraced. He failed to protest, he didn't want to._

_She tightened her embrace, pulling me towards her._

_No. He wanted to push her away. How could she not hate her for what he did?_

_He began to cry._

_Cry for the baby who was lost on his first night._

_Cry for the boy in the orphanage._

_Cry with the boy without a name._

_Cry with the boy with dashed hopes._

_Cry for the lies, the insults, the failures._

_He had to live. He had to make up for the time he lost._

_Warm, acceptance, healing._

_The pain – yes. But their love as well._

_He needed time…He needed…_

_He needed her._

_His friend._

_His equal._

_His anchor._

_His sister._

_Lea._

_The pull – was there. The pull – was drawing him back._

_From there._

_To her._

_And it hurt._

_But this time, he would take it._

A pull…a pull he could feel. He regained consciousness with a gasp and was met with the shocked faces of Kenny and Isabel.

"Vale…what the…?" Vale looked at himself and frowned. The golden spot was still there, still dull. He hoped it meant something was changing. It must've been quite a shock to them.

The grin that unfurled across Vale's face scared them more.

"I'll explain while we walk." He said uncharacteristically happy. "Now we gotta move." With that he set off, leaving the others to run after him.

* * *

On the five or so hours that had passed since she came back home, she didn't know she could change that much. Currently she was in her room, drawing.

Drawing out the scenes that raged on inside the confines of her head was one of the few ways she could help to ease the burden, the building pressure in her chest. As always, her hand would often move without any conscious effort or thought to what it was doing. Almost as if she were in a trance, or if someone else was there, doing it for her. It was almost as if she were sleeping while doing it – one moment, she'd be staring at a blank sheet of paper, the next, a complete landscape or person would show up on the page before her.

But that was a long time ago.

She hadn't had any revelations in almost three years. And she wanted it, she _yearned_ for it, for a glimpse of what could her brother might be experiencing. She knew it wasn't healthy to dwell in these kind of topics, but she couldn't help herself.

It was in her nature.

It made sense, she supposed, they'd been separated in an unnatural way, she was bound to act unnaturally. As unnatural as someone like her could act, that is.

Which sets up the current predicament the former child Seer found herself in right now.

It wasn't only the episode she found herself in that was the problem.

It was the setting.

All she could recall from that morning upon waking, was making her way downstairs in her pajamas, all the while fidgeting with her hands to soothe her nerves after a particularly bad dream (which she now could not remember), and feeling the extreme compulsion to fetch her sketchbook from upstairs...

Now, she found herself sitting in her room, a good four or so hours into her morning later, with the room scattered generously in paper, graphite and colored pencils, charcoal sticks, erasers, and even a select few canvases now covered with drying acrylic paint. It looked like a damn _hurricane_ had swept its way through the place! Not to mention she looked as if she'd just been through a wrestling match with a giant slab of graphite. Her hands were tinted silver from the stuff, along with several streaks up her arms and smudges on her face (how that happened, she had absolutely no idea).

She didn't even remember the last four hours! How many drawings had she created?

_Good God, I've had memory blanks, but this is ridiculous!_ she thought with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, once again studying her hands with something just short of dismay. It would take ages to clean this mess up! Let alone scrub the splatters of ink, pencil, and paint off of her skin! That, and she had to wait for the paintings to dry, and clean up all the wood and eraser shavings from the carpet, re-store all the extra acrylic paint the best her Mom could, soak the brushes before she could clean them, put the easels away, reorganize the charcoal and colored pencils, pack away her sketchbooks again...

There was a knock on the door that made her startle. "Le, you okay?"

The nine-year-old smiled tiredly. Matt wouldn't be happy when he realized what she had done. She carefully opened the door to reveal her big brother.

"Are you okay? Do you need something?" Matt asked quickly. Lea rolled her eyes, since she came out of the hospital, her family had been into full mother hen mode. Not that it annoyed her…She paused as she heard Matt chuckle.

Lea glanced to her grayed hands, smeared-up arms, and making the mistake to reach up and touch her face, therefore only spreading the mess. She gave a sheepish grin to her brother – he looked as if he was holding back laughter – and said, "Eh... you, uh... kind of caught me at a bad time." she informed with a chuckle. Matt snorted with amusement.

"I can see it."

"You could say I've... been busy the past few hours. Drawing, and such..." This made Matt's laughter pause. They both knew what that meant, and it made a great amount of concern fill the atmosphere. "It's no big deal, though. I mean, it passes the time, right? I don't even remember it." Her mind immediately screamed _bad idea!_ at mentioning the apparent four-hour-long lapse of memory. Lea bit back a rough groan, and resisted the urge to smack herself.

"For how long this time, little sis?"

"I don't really know... give or take, about thirty minutes... three, maybe four hours?" She felt her shoulders draw up, almost as if trying to instinctively hide herself, as the concern filled the black-haired boy's widened eyes. "I don't even know who or what it was I drew, honestly... I didn't bother looking." This time, his eyes widened with another kind of emotion and tried to go past the door.

"Matt..." she breathed, "Come on, it's not that big of a deal, just... don't worry about it!" she called after the black-haired as he quickly turned towards Lea's room. "Really, it's a total mess in there – just a few drawings, there's really nothing to be so concerned about!"

Before he could open the door, she slipped in front of him, back pressing to the wood, looking almost as if she wanted to protect what lay beyond it. Matt's brown eyes widened slightly, before narrowing. "If it's nothing to worry about, why are you trying to hide it?" he questioned, expression stern.

Lea offered a sheepish grin, and a halfhearted shrug. "I just... I-I don't really see why you make such a big deal out of this, that's all. It's just a hobby..." she argued weakly; resolve already faltering as green locked onto brown. She didn't want to fight.

Lea knew he was concerned, and for a good reason. Of course her family knew about Lea's little... creative jags, and they all knew what caused them. Since Vale had left, it was a way for Lea to lose herself and try to escape her emotions, and each time the moments of detachment became more and more intense. Honestly, she knew they all feared that one day she'd just... stop connecting entirely. And...sometimes...

Lea feared it, too.

So, that was why, with a hearty sigh of defeat, she dropped her arms to her sides, and stepped away from the door. Crossing her arms over her chest, and tapping a foot in slight anxiety, she waited for her big brother to enter. She paused when a gasp met her ears. "What?" she asked quietly, trying to peek over their shoulders in the doorway. Why did she had such a lack of height!

Strange as it may seem, Lea honestly had no memory of her creations during this particular jag – so she was rather in the dark at what was causing her brother's surprise. She gingerly slipped beside him, and looked into the mess that was her office. Her eyes soon widened along with Matt's, mumbling something incoherent. Because... staring back at her, was... _his_ face. The face she hadn't seen in almost three years. The one she had lived with for what had seemed like an eternity, and the face that seemed to find it amusing to haunt Lea's mind for the remainder of her days.

Pencils, charcoal, paintings...

Every single medium, left a new perspective of their adoptive brother, frozen in time, as it had been within Lea's memory.

Nerves bundled themselves up into Lea's belly, twisting and turning her innards into a contorted mess of underlying panic and hysteria. She swallowed, but her throat seemed to have spontaneously dried, making the action difficult and even a bit painful. Her hands grew warm and clammy, clenching themselves into fists, as she took a single, tentative step into the room... and then another.

And another.

And another.

Her curled fingers came to his chest, covering over her torso, before her wrists crossed over one another just below her collarbone. The position was clearly defensive, where had she learnt it, she didn't know. In one fluid movement, she was in a kneeling position. Her arm slowly reached out, to a stray paper that had fluttered to the ground at some point during his episode.

The sheet was no longer white, but a swirl of blacks, grays, blues, and reds. In the center was a pile of what seemed to be rocks. It seemed to be completely unbreakable, but a small hole in the top was open.

Through the hole, two bright brown eyes peeped through. Red lines surrounded the brown, giving the eyes a bloodshot appearance.

Around the edges on the sheet was color. Bright shades of yellow, pink, and orange danced in undefined patterns, just beyond reach. Around the eyes, was black. Grey. Sharp spikes, ragged edges, and choking thickness.

In the darkness, deep grey rays, spells, Lea recognized, were barely visible, circling the pile, as if to keep the eyes imprisoned.

The very center of the eyes, the deep black pupils, reflected the bright pastel colors, and at the same time, the colors swirled towards the center, as if being pulled into the eyes, an imprint of hope, in the land of despair.

Everything was perfectly shaded and toned. Lea could almost feel the coldness of the cave as she looked over one of his most recent art pieces. She could practically sense the brown glow of the boy's sketched eyes, the orange shade of his scaly skin, as if he were standing there beside her.

Lea hugged it to her chest gently, before picking up another. This one was simple – a picture of her brother, curled up on the floor, seeming to try to fall asleep, but seeing his shining green eyes, she knew it wasn't the case. Her eyes moistened with unshed tears as she took in her brother's miserable condition.

Slowly, but surely, she gathered the stray pieces of art from the carpet, the desk, the bookshelf, until altogether, she held almost twenty different drawings in her arms.

Those weren't drawings.

Those were revelations. Revelations that came too late.

Three years too late.

"Le…" Matt began awkwardly. "I went here cause…well, Darren's about to come, and he'll go berserk if he can't see you, you know?"

"Will he?" Lea asked distractedly.

"Yeah. You should've seen him, the moment he knew what happened to you he went and beat Troy to a pulp." The succeeded in distracting her, her emerald eyes widened immensely. "I think you should ask him, he's about to arrive." With that Lea bolted of the room, dusty as she was. Matt's gaze lingered for a moment in the drawing that were in the desk.

_"Could it be?"_

* * *

"I can't believe they didn't tell me sooner! Why would they wait a day?! Why are you here, anyway? I can go to their home via Torri, and you know it!" Darren's excited blabbering was difficult to keep up with.

"Don't you think it would be disrespectful to do so? Besides, Lea needs to rest, and you startling her wouldn't do much good." Rîus calmed him. Well, tried to.

"Matt said Lea was perfectly fine! I can already see the house, Uncle hurry!" Darren attempted to start running towards it, only to be pulled back. "What?!"

"You have to be patient."

"I don't wanna be patient, I want to be impatient so I can run towards it and see my Ally." Darren pouted like a child. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed his Uncle staring at him. "What are you looking at?"

Rîus suppressed a smile. "Nothing, nothing."

Darren stared at him puzzled before he made a run for it. Rîus' gaze followed him.

He remembered when they had arrived into the human world; Darren had been a little boy full of confusion, anger and resentment. His first months at school—more like years—had been awful. Getting into fights continually, disrespecting his authority, all the while Rîus himself, his sister Caila, and the boy's father, Twera struggled to understand and blend in that different world. He still remembered Calia's words, _'He's just a boy, sooner or later he'll realize he has to behave differently here.'_

He watched as Darren sprinted towards the house of his friends like there was no tomorrow, so different from what he had been.

Aged seven, Darren was bitter, and took out his anger by lashing out at others. _'A little warrior'_ Twera had called him while still in their world. Now, it turned out that everything Darren had learned—everything them had learned, was wrong.

Rîus had started to worry about his behavior soon enough. His nephew had never cared about anyone, never cried for another being, nor had he felt sorry or pity. He had never loved anyone besides his family, he was the only protagonist of his life, the others were extras.

"Is Lea okay? In her room? Got it!" Darren sprinted up the stairs just as his Uncle arrived, shaking his head.

Until that fateful day. Rîus had lost a sister, but Darren had lost his parents. Rîus had wept and mourned without making a single sound, without letting a single tear down. It was his nature. But he wasn't saying that it wasn't tough on him, oh no, especially since there were reminders of the, all over the house—their Kaiju items, books, photographs of past happiness, and most hauntingly of all, Darren. He had his father's long brown waves, his thick eyebrows, his mother's sharp grey eyes. Darren… he couldn't blame him for his different way to cope. The nine-year-old boy had grieved with livid shouts, erratic sobs, and loud curses, damning their King for exiling them, the humans, damning everything.

When he seemed to calm down, Rîus noticed a change on his behavior. Darren was an antisocial at school: he didn't greet anyone or remember their names, didn't answer the phone, and didn't socialize with anyone, he lived on an island... his island, and of it, he was king. But he had begun to socialize more, out of necessity, trying, actually **trying** to blend in. He never took his 'friendships' to heart, and Rîus knew Darren constantly dreamed of some way of going back to the world that had turned their back on them—which he still considered his—.

"Darren seemed pretty eager to see Lea." Rius turned around to see the mother, Marie, greeting him. He smiled. "You have no idea."

Until he had made a deal with the devil, until they arrived and began building bridges. He could see it, even after his nephew had returned home after being missing for three days, he had lunged towards him in a whirlwind of emotions, not waiting to let go.

_"I did something, Uncle. Something terrible…"_

He had definitely turned his back at his once called 'home'. It was the end of his suffering, Lea and Valentine were his allies, they created the bonds that took him from his isolation. They forgave him again and again and each time he failed, they gave him one more chance. They gave him the only place on the raft, the last plate of food, the only shelter in the cold.

They gave everything and asked for nothing.

Rîus supposed it was true. _A relationship is true when it changes you._

He called them his Allies. And with Allies, he couldn't be isolated.

These siblings had been, **were** his allies. The friends he loved most, the ones who knew his miseries and loved him despite them.

Rîus looked at his nephew as he engulfed Lea into a hug, almost certain that he was breaking down.

There is a greater privilege than being loved, the privilege of love. That is what they gave him, that is what he owed them

"**Never** do that to me again, you get it? Never! You don't know what it was for me. I am bored without you. I feel alone." Darren said into her ear.

He had been a child who could not love, now he couldn't live without it.

* * *

**Ok guys, this is all. I've been having trouble with this site's uploads of documents, so I couldn't do a line break. ****Hope you understand.**


	13. When stealing is a good thing

**Consider this an early Christmas gift! Happy Christmas and New Year, my loyal readers!**

_**"Don't be afraid to steal, just steal the right stuff."**_

* * *

"It's as if they were swallowed by the ground!" Barnes kept fuming. He just didn't understand what the Hell had happened. One second they were chasing them, the other they had just…disappeared. A whole day looking for them and nothing.

"Actually they were." A brown-haired man walked up to him. "I have good news, Coronel." Richards spoke before Barnes could open his mouth. "It appears that one of our cameras spotted a rather big crack on the ground. According to it, it wasn't there yesterday."

"…So?" Barnes raised an eyebrow, confused with what did this had to do with anything.

"So it may be that the children from a few days ago managed to go up. And since you said one of them was a key to find the Kaiju…"

No more needed to be said.

* * *

After they had finally reached the city, Vale had slowed down, eyes wide. The events of the life of Valentine White seemed almost surreal to him. Like a past life. And now, everything looked so _strange_, somehow. His keen brown eyes took everything in; from potential threats to potential opportunities, he missed nothing.

Most did not see him in the shadows, and even though some glanced in his direction, in truth they gave him as much significance as the brick wall he was leaning on.

"Eh, Vale, wait up!" a pair of feet stumbled in the ground, trying to keep up with the other two. "EH!" Kenny called after them, black hair getting into his eyes. _"Ah, the thrill of being ignored!" _he thought with no little amount of sarcasm.

"Oh, come on, Vale." Isabel was saying, trying to make him say what had happened there. Vale didn't say a word. Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.

"I don't want to hear it, Isabel." Kenny piped up. He was sure (and judging his new friend's expression) that it would be difficult to explain, and it would take time. Time they didn't have.

"Jesus Christ."

"He doesn't want to hear it, either."

_True, true,_ Vale thought, his eyes never stopping, never still. More people were looking or even staring at him. Looking briefly at himself, he decided what he had to do.

Sighing deeply to himself, Vale moved away from the wall with purpose, walking lightly on his feet as he dove in and out of the crowd, never making contact with anyone. Never attracting any attention.

That was rule number one.

_Never be noticed._

He had become good at following that rule over the years. It had been difficult though, and the boy had learnt the hard way. Beatings, scars and fights had made it clear; avoid any attention and life will be better.

Or at least, it won't be worse.

Rule number two had always been a bit harder for him to follow, but after many hard and harsh lessons he had grasped this one as well.

_Do what you have to do to survive._

It hadn't been easy at first, but it's surprising what those three years had done to his conscience.

"Where did he go?" Isabel asked after not seeing his friend for a while.

"Dunno." Kenny replied. "Maybe he ran too fast?" he asked, torn between keep walking or stay in the same place in case he came back. They decided for the latter.

* * *

Valentine still didn't know how he had managed to go to a clothes store without being asked any questions. He figured he must look like a street urchin. Well, he was going to rectify that a little. At least, a properly clothed boy got stared at less than a shirtless boy.

Now, about the money…he'd just have to pray he didn't get caught. He roamed around, picked a red jacket and put it on. It was too big for him.

On the opposite side, the mannequins stood like witnesses. They were serious and ludicrously stylish. It was hard to shake the feeling that they were watching everything. It's a lot easier, he realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it.

Passing in front of a mirror, he sneaked a peek at himself as he looked for something to wear and found himself fascinated. Who was this person with large brown eyes and long hair? Longer than he remembered, anyway, way longer. How long had it been since he'd seen himself?

He drank in the sight of himself almost greedily. As he pushed his hair off his eyes, he watched in fascination as his reflection did, too, before they fell forwards again. He tilted his head. The mirror did the same. He cocked an eyebrow. The mirror mimicked him.

He found himself smiling widely at the way his reflection copied him exactly. He stared at himself for another long second, pushing his hair back again, watching it fall into his eyes again. He giggled quietly, fascinated by the way his reflection did everything he did, in the exact way he did it.

Nobody else stared at themselves like this for so long or so much. His grin grew wider as he stuck his tongue out. He instead bit the inside of his lip, watching his reflection clench its jaw as it did the same.

His tongue slid out again and he watched as it licked his lips. He had never noticed how much he fidgeted before today. His hands were constantly moving, tapping against his thigh, scratching at his face or head, pushing his hair back…

He was in the process of quitting the jacket when he caught sight of himself in the mirror; sickly thin, a white, ragged scar going from his left eyebrow to his chin, numerous scars and bruises all over his back and chest and stomach, and so many more he knew weren't visible. He noticed, too, that his teeth were yellow from lack of brushing, his hair was well past his shoulders and without a definite color since it was so dirty. He hurriedly put the jacket on, not wanting to see.

His fingers drifted from zipping his jacket to the scars, one hand going to his back, the other to his face. His brief amusement with the mirror faded.

"Hey!" a male voice made him startle and he turned around, facing who must've been an employee of the store. "Aren't you going to pay for that?"

* * *

Officer John Rivers never took this town to be a dangerous one. There were no murders, no shooting, the most dangerous thing that happened was usually just a robbery or a lawsuit. Before the strange disappearances, it was a dull little town; a town where everyone knew everybody. The kind criminals wouldn't give the time of day.

"S-she said she would be back by dinner. S-she went to hang out with that boy Kenny..."

"Ma'am we will help you but first calm down."

The woman took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

"My daughter Isabel Vasquez went missing yesterday. Along with her friend Kenny Rogers,"

"Like the singer?" The officer joked. The woman was clearly annoyed with his joke but he just shrugged it off. "How old are they?"

"13 years old." The woman choked out, containing her sobs

John messily jotted 'Isabel Vasquez, Kenny Rogers 13 years old' in his notebook as the woman continued her testimony.

"I saw her in the morning before I went to work, she said that after school she was just going to hang out with Kenny..."

"Erm…Rivers?" said McPherson, her attention being drawn to someone running extremely rapidly in their direction. "Do you see a child being chased by a large man?" No one paid attention to her, engrossed as they were with the story of Mrs. Vasquez.

"When I got home, I just thought she went to bed but this morning... she didn't come down to breakfast and...and..." The woman burst back into sobs. John signaled the other officers to calm her down.

It was foolish to assume any town was completely safe or even free from crime. John had learned this the hard way.

_ 'Perhaps they left at their own volition? Kids do that sometimes.'_ John shook the thought off as quickly as it came. The girl seemed to have a good relationship with her mother so it was unlikely. Besides they were thirteen years old. What on earth could compel them to leave?'

His train of thoughts was cut off by a screaming child who ran in between interrogated and interrogators without difficulty, followed closely by a very large and very angry man.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the child screamed running by, his voice disappearing around the corner.

"Stop thief! He stole one of the jackets of the store!" the large man yelled as he stopped, looking very tired. The officers and the woman just looked at him.

"…what was that?"

* * *

"Maybe he left to go home on his own." Kenny thought aloud, not exactly sure what could have compelled the half-Kaiju to act in such a manner.

"I still think he will come." Isabel said stubbornly. Sure enough, some time later Vale returned, running like crazy and completely winded, a bit…different than when he left.

"Where did you get that jacket?" Isabel immediately asked, referring to the oversized red jacket Vale was currently wearing. It contrasted sharply with the state of his pants, that's sure.

"Got it as a delayed birthday gift." Vale said ironically. "I stole it, obviously." He had made a big detour just in case someone had followed him. Now, again with his friends he felt bad for them, though. He had wondered if he should try to grab some for them to eat, but decided it would be pushing his luck. He was grateful he had outrun that man.

"Clearly," said Kenny before Isabel spoke. "You're an idiot- but you're our kind of idiot. Come on."

"I'm finding out very quickly that you two march to the beat of a different drum." Vale said with a small smirk, which fell the second he turned to Isabel.

"Sorry?" he tried seeing Isabel's face. Vale couldn't help it, he had felt skittish, that rather than standing there being ogled, he should be running. That or attacking those that posed as a threat. He had felt a growl hitching in his throat and his teeth baring in protest to the others' actions.

The idea was so opposite of his normal state of mind that it boggled him. He had never had this reaction to other people before. This one was animalistic.

Even after he could feel Isabel's eyes on him, he hoped she couldn't see the escaped beginnings of a smile that had fallen from his mouth. Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it. The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose. He kind of liked it.

* * *

Barnes stared at the crack with mild amusement.

_ 'Either this is trap or just a really good day,'_ he thought with a slight grin. Richards was currently kneeling on the edge of the crack, trying to see how deep it was.

"Should we go in?" One of the men asked, eyeing the crack dubiously.

"Are you insane? Enter like that, having no idea of what's inside? We would be going into the lion's den…" The men's discussion was cut short by the sound of someone swearing with a ferocity that can only be described as a talent.

Only then Barnes realized Richards wasn't at the edge of the crack. He would most likely be at the bottom.

"It's okay!" they heard Richards calling up. "It's quite a fall, though. If you could pull me up…!"

"Well, I guess we have no choice now," with a slight shrug, Barnes jumped down the hole to meet his subordinate.

Landing on both his feet, the agent offered his friend a hand.

"Tch... Showoff," Richards snarled as he was pulled to his feet. He looked up at the crack now miles above. "Do you think the others will come?"

"Only the really brave or the really stupid," Barnes replied.

"Oh? Which one are you?"

"The desperately curious," Barnes analyzed his friend for a quick second. "And considering that it took you, a trained agent, all of ten seconds to fall into dangerous territory... I suppose you'd fall into the really stupid category." Ignoring Richards' indignant reply, Barnes continued forwards.

* * *

"…so based on what you've told me, every Kaiju has magic and not only a few, like the Relic?" Isabel asked him. Vale smiled, this girl was a walking encyclopedia on Kaiju.

"Mjm. On a higher or lower degree. You really know your Cryptozoology."

"Oh, yeah." Kenny chipped in. "Isabel loves all that creepy stuff. She's a giant monster fangirl." He informed Vale as the girl rolled her eyes.

**"'Monster'** is in the eye of the beholder." She said with obvious annoyance. "They're '**Kaiju**', Kenny."

"Fine. Whatever." Kenny scoffed. "Sorry." The boys looked at each other with raised eyebrows as Isabel rambled on.

"They're not monsters. They fight us because we keep trying to kill them." That made Vale pause and look at the girl with a shake of his head.

"You've got that wrong." He argued. "True, MEGTAF is always trying to spot the Kaiju lair (unsuccessfully, I might add) but humans aren't particularly well-liked for the majority of them, let me tell you."

"Did you meet one of them?" Kenny asked with interest.

"Mostly I saw them from afar," Vale said, omitting to tell them he hadn't been alone in very populated areas since a very close call. Coming to think about it, he didn't expect Belloc to do that, (not that he had any complains)

"But I did met one, not personally of course." he continued. "I was wandering around when I saw him. I mistook him for a human kid at first. He confused me cause he was carrying something metallic with him. According to the other's saying, the poor guy couldn't figure out how to change back to his true form."

"Mustn't have been the sharpest tool in the box." Kenny smiled. He had been worried at first, but seemed like the memory wasn't that bad.

Isabel, meanwhile, was shocked at the discovery that Kaiju could change shapes at will…with a bit of practice that is.

"Nope." Vale nodded in agreement. "They stayed there quite a while, trying to look for a place to hide the metal thingy, which apparently was something Daimon had robbed from MEGTAF."

"Wait, what?" came two twin exclamations.

"Yep, they've tried to sneak in. It's quite a recent practice, just for the most brave kids…or foolish, or rebels, still don't know what. I think Daimon's managed it a few times. It's a game: sneak in, nab something, or try to get someone out of their cage, get back out. It's a great way to pass the time, and it helps the Kaiju with their evasive skills."

"Sooooo... Kaiju kids have tried to sneak in... the quarters of an organization... that seems like it has more leaks than the Titanic... and nobody tried to follow them?!" Kenny asked in amazement.

Vale shook his head as they heard a siren approaching. He frowned when they saw a police car stopping in front of them.

"Duh duh duh. We're dead." Muttered Kenny.

"Isabel Vasquez and Kenny Rogers?" A man with a black mustache exited the car. The three teens looked at him warily.

"Yes?" they asked, while Vale clenched his teeth in frustration. _'Great, first my so called father, then MEGTAF and now law enforcement.'_ He thought bitterly. _'All we need is the army and then we'll have a celebration.'_

"Your parents have been looking for you. You have to come with me." Kenny frowned at this but didn't say anything. Isabel mouthed 'sorry' and dragged Kenny towards the car. They didn't want to but, what option did they have?

Vale watched them leave, a bit surprised the officer hadn't asked him anything, and worried about his friends. Then he started walking again, trying his best to remember where to turn, how many blocks, the names of the streets. It was very difficult. He wondered how much his siblings had changed.

The world in which he lived turned on its axis constantly and with this movement everything changed, weather, night, day, tides, life. But he suffered it, because every change made him feel as though he was in an unknown world, and therefore alien.

But there were things that he did remember, he was finally recognizing his surroundings…almost there…There!

Now he turned on to the side street, making his way to number one hundred-and-three, resisting the urge to smile, resisting the urge to sob or even imagine the safety that might be awaiting him. He reminded himself that this was no time for hope.

The boy sped up when he saw the house, but stopped dead at the door. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to knock the door. Vale chose to peer from the windows, trying to spot a member of his family. He heard some noise by the kitchen's window and hurriedly made his way towards there.

He was completely umprepared with what he saw.

His family was there, minus Matt. His mom was cooking something and his dad was sitting there with Lea. _Good, she's healed._ Vale was awestruck, there it was, proof that all that time had passed. His sister was taller, his hair was longer, she was…was different. Vale noticed with a smile of joy she was wearing –she was wearing the gem he gave her!—Did it mean she didn't hate him? Vale strained his ears to hear what was going on…and immediately regretted it.

"Oh Sole mío, la la la la…" his Mom was singing quite loudly, making both Lea and Vale wince. He had forgotten his Mom wasn't blessed with the prettiest of the voices…

"You're never going to learn how to cook." Lea smiled at Julian.

"Never." He agreed. "That's why we have your Mom here for."

"Of course, and your Dad's the one who sings." Marie laughed fondly. "What if I teach you? That way you'll learn."

"Nah, I don't think so, no." Lea answered. She really wasn't interested in it right now.

"Whatever do you mean; you're not going to learn how to cook?" Marie asked in a mock threat, advancing towards her with a handful of flour. Lea's eyes and smile widened as she dodged the flour, making it land on Julian's face.

Vale laughed despite himself, remembering quite a few times when someone was attacked that way. Those were the moments he had always treasured. If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.

Vale straightened himself as he tried to work out the corage to knock on the door, or the window. Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal trick?

He didn't know, but he was sure he wouldn't miss another moment, he thought as he continued watching.

Julian coughed up a bit of flour as mother and daughter laughed at him, and Vale heard a few barks. His eyes widened as he saw a brown dog barking around, who he heard they named 'Kobu'. _Why the hell did they take in that demon dog?!_ He thought shocked.

However, that feeling was short lived when he heard footsteps approaching him. He quickly dove under a few bushes and looked up at what turned out to be his brother.

Matt had surely hit a growth spurt when he was away. He was taller and with a broader frame that he remembered, his hair was styled in a medium-length style (Vale hoped his attitude had improved with time) and was currently walking aimlessly humming a tune.

This humming suddenly turned in to him singing Bohemian Rhapsody lowly, yet still plenty loud enough for Vale to hear him.

_'Is this the real life?_ _Is this just fantasy?_

Vale squinted as he suddenly began belting out the notes, horribly off key. Not to mention a few added words.

_Caught in a landscape,_ _N__o __escape from reality.'_

The next verse was so incredibly out of tune Vale almost asked him to be quiet.

_'Open your eyes_, why won't you _look up to the skies and see,_ _I'm just a poor boy, _don't you dare give me _sympathy,_ _Because I'm easy come, easy go,_ _little high, little low._ _Anyway the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, _'cause I'm hardcore.

The next verse Vale HAD to tell him to please shut up. His ears were about to bleed.

'_Mama, just killed a man,_ _Put a gun against his head_. _Pulled the trigger, now he's dead._ _MAMMMMMMA, LIFE HAS JUST BBEGU-'_

"AHHH!" Vale scrambled off of where he lay, horrified by his awful attempt at singing. Matt jumped a foot in the air, before turning around and jogging to where Vale lay on the floor.

"Don't tell me..." The smaller boy nodded solemnly in response to his unasked question. "I'M REALLY THAT BAD?" he nodded again.

"I'm sorry, Matt, we know you don't have a good voice." Vale forced out a smile. The wide eyes of his brother made him painfully realize his own brother hadn't recognized him at first. Now, finding himself scrutinized by Matt's brown eyes, he had to lean forwards to hear his shocked whisper.

"No way."

* * *

**So, how will Matt react? Leave your opinions, please! Review!**


	14. Family

**Sorry for the delay, my dear readers, but here it is. Review!**

_**Family is not an important thing. It's everything.**_

* * *

Matthew White had awoken to a day like any other.

The sky was as it always was: Cloudy. Gray. Finite. Yet black crows lurked on the nearby telephone poles, watching him with keen, beady eyes. The sun's cheerful rays were lost within the dark puffs drifting above, but the summer heat still managed to create a somehow unsettling rippling haze.

It was the same. Everything was no different from how he remembered it, yet the smallest things made Matt feel like there was something going on. Something _big_.

There was nothing to fear, nothing at all to feel uneasy about, in yet there was some foreign feeling nagging at him deep inside as he opened his eyes when he awoke; as he murmured it in his head. The feeling continued to bother him as he rose, hesitantly climbing out of the comfort of his bed, and forced himself to dress. It continued to grow further as he walked out of his front door, locking it behind him.

Matt did not know why but somehow he knew, somewhere deep inside, something was going to happen that day.

An event, the reveal of a specific piece of information- there was something that was supposed to occur. Something... important.

Like a memory out of reach (like the remains of a scattered dream...) his mind knew this, and his muscles tensed with an anxiousness he could not place.

But as he strolled down the concrete sidewalks, and passed the familiar shops, homes, and riverbeds, he could not identify any immediate changes.

Every rock and pebble was accounted for, every telephone pole where it should be, and every sign the same as he could last recall it.

All day, every person he passed made him uneasy. Every truck or car, tense. And although he was certain there was no one following or watching him, he felt as if he could sense something. Was it how Lea sometimes felt, with her revelations? He had no means of knowing.

His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong, that he should sit back and study his surroundings more, but the closer he tried to peer into the details of the world around him, the less he seemed to see.

So Matthew White hadn't listened to his instincts. He hadn't listened to the voice in the back of his mind, whispering for him to return home for the day.

He hadn't known.

He hadn't known this day was so different in yet so similar to the ones he had lived before.

And now, as he was singing a song he had heard on the radio (he knew he didn't have the best voice. He didn't care, either.) It was supposed to be over then. It was supposed to be simple.

But nothing about this day had been simple, had it...?

Nothing. There was nothing now.

It... stopped.

All at once, the world seemed to cease spinning.

Time didn't move. The earlier birds fluttering in the breeze were still, discarded feathers frozen in the air. All the sharp sounds and vivid colors of the world seemed to disappear, and not a single breeze could be felt...

In yet, Matt felt a distinctive chill.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his gaze. Directly across from him, in the very front of the window, standing in the rippling of the heated haze, was a boy. His skin was tanned, he could see so in the dark, and his hair was fair, blond, and his eyes... his eyes were the color of deep hazel.

What unnerved Matt the most was that he knew this boy.

He then tried to shrug it off, tried to focus more on his voice, but when the boy had answered, he knew this wasn't real.

A nightmare...

Yes, he must be in the clutches of some bad dream, tormented by the darkest depths of his brain. Even if it was different from the other ones he had, it didn't - _wouldn't_, **shouldn't**, _**couldn't**_ matter.

After all, it was just a dream...

A meaningless unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary dream...

The boy, for whatever reason, had abruptly stopped. Who gave him permission to look so damn vulnerable, and in so much need of a hug?

"…Matt?" the voice was soft, hesitant, as if not to alarm a wild animal. "Matt…don't…don't you recognize me?" it gained a desperate edge. "It's me, Vale."

Of course it had to be that name. His little brother. It was a pity it had to end, it was being such a good dream so far…

He just had to focus on a difference, one little difference. He had to choose, though, there seemed to be many. The rumble of his vocal chords was deeper. _Older_. Not by much. Not by much…

He was a little taller than he remembered, but he was still small. His hair was long and unkempt, (Matt congratulated himself, he had never imagined him in such a bad shape) his pants were practically rags, too short for him, in contrast with his oversized red jacket, which looked new and only added to the appearance of fragility.

_"Has he always been this thin?"_ he found himself thinking, before shaking his head and closing his eyes. He opened them again.

…Why hadn't he awoken in his room? Why was he still there? And why, for God's sake, was that boy coming closer to him?

"You have to believe me…" the brown eyes were wide, pleasing, desperate, and felt so very very _wrong_. Maybe he should try touching him, it always made him awake the first times. As the boy gave yet another step, inches away from the older one, Matt noticed a white, long, ragged scar on his face. _Wha… Vale isn't supposed to have any scars…_

"Please…"

In confusion, he lifted his hand to trace the scar…and found out that he could. The boy hadn't vanished from his sight, neither his surroundings. Matt could see him shudder but let him continuing. Matt looked from his scar to his eyes, hardly daring to believe it.

"You are here." he uttered, as hesitant as the voice of the boy's –Valentine, his _brother_—had been. "You are here!" he said in realization, a grin unfolding across his face.

Up to age nine, Valentine White had never believed in God. He had never believed there was some being murmuring in his ear, manipulating his thoughts and actions. He had never believed there was an invisible hand pulling puppet strings, pushing him towards his inescapable fate. He had never believed the events in his life were decided before he even knew it, or that his future was dictated even before then, before his birth. (he had been proven wrong, not God but someone else…)

But as he saw the sparkle of recognition in his adoptive brother's face, he began to thank every God he could think of: Zeus, Thor, Allah, God, it didn't matter who. It was over, finally, finally over; he had made it, he had come. And he could hear nothing but his own name being whispered over and over, inhaling his brother's scent, feeling the exhaustion of the last days (or was it years?) catching up with him, almost enough to make him collapse.

While listening to Matt's mantra, he wondered if that was a good sign. Sure, he'd be happy to see him, but what if he changed his mind? What if he hated him for leaving? God, how could he_ not_ hate him? The pit of his stomach twisted, and he felt undeniably weak and nauseous and guilty as he whispered above Matt's softer ones, his voice dry and hoarse:

"I'm sorry…Matt, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

"Don't." his brother raised his voice a bit. "Don't you dare to apologize." They separated, but Matt didn't want to let him go yet. Vale himself found he craved for the touch, so didn't offer any resistance.

"I'm serious. We know why you did it." Matt trailed off when Vale shifter to look at him. He wasn't sure eyes were supposed to be able to be that big. The smaller boy just nodded.

Matt suddenly remembered something. Vale had been awfully quiet before he left, and absolutely refused to come out of the house. Then there was his letter… Maybe it was the house itself which kept him protected?

They still weren't inside, which mean, there still was the possibility of his brother being taken away. One thing was certain, Matthew wouldn't be relieved until his brother was safe. Almost possessively, _fearfully_, he held Vale in his arms tighter, before regretfully separating from him.

"We should go inside. I'm sure the others are missing you." He said, grabbing one of the jacket's sleeves to pull him forwards. (how the hell did he get that jacket, anyway?)

Though the walk through the streets towards his home had seemed lengthy, with Matt by his side, and considering where they were, the few steps inside took a surprisingly short time. Matt could not wait to tell his family, and it was with quickening excitement that he entered the house, Vale lagging a little behind him.

"Come, come." Matt urged his brother excitedly, failing to understand why he'd be so hesitant (Did he actually thought they'd hate him?) He looked at his newfound brother in concern.

"Do you want to sit down? No offense, but you look like you're going to pass out again."

Vale nodded cautiously, since he did feel a little faint now that he thought about it, and gingerly moved to the couch. Matt moved with him, immediately slumping down the comfortable cushions, but Vale stopped just before he reached the seat.

Having seen Vale's reluctance, Matt asked. "What's wrong?"

Vale's cheeks flushed red, and lowered his gaze to the ground.

"I'm dirty." Vale whispered. "My clothes…I'll get the couch dirty."

"Hey Valen," Matt started, his expression one of concern. "Mom…she won't mind, honestly."

"Okay." Vale choked out and mechanically lowered himself down onto the couch, only for him to stand quickly. Matt's confused gaze was interrupted by furious barks. Matt watched in shock as Kobu ran from the kitchen and Vale quickly backing away.

"Seems like that mutt remembers me." Vale muttered without taking his eyes off the dog.

"Hey, Kobu, hey stop. This is Vale." Matt tried to make his new pet to stop growling, succeeding in making him sit.

"That thing nearly bit my hand off when I was seven, Matt!" Vale growled, before he went still.

"What's wrong? Matt? Are you all right?" Matt smiled when he heard his parents' voices.

"It's okay, everything's fine. More than fine, I'm great. There's someone here."

"What do you mean? Who-?"

"Oh my God..." Julian whispered putting his hand on his face. In their living room stood their long lost son. They were silent for minutes analyzing how much each other had changed. How Julian's hair was beginning to turn gray over the edges. How Marie's was longer. How Vale seemed to be covered in dirt and scars.

Minutes became too awkward so Vale decided to speak.

"Hey mom... hey dad..." Vale said softly. He couldn't face them, he couldn't bare to see their disappoint, he couldn't bare to see them upset. Marie moved forward and captured Vale in a hug.

"Oh God, my baby…" she said softly through the tears. Vale leaned into the touch, realizing how much he had missed it…that caring, protective touch. The only way he had been touched was violently. Constantly pushed, pulled, shoved, hit. Nothing was ever gentle…soothing. His mom said nothing, only moved a hand to card her way through Vale's tangled hair.

"You'd think Belloc could find time for a haircut every now and again. I'll have to do something about it. And did he even let you eat? I can count your ribs just by hugging you. And you look so tired, you have bags under your eyes again. I need to fatten you up before the wind blows you again." She hesitated and her lip quivered. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do, I love you too."

Julia waited until she finally released him to hug him as well. He didn't hug him as long as she did, but he held onto him tightly, so happy and relieved to finally have his son back.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He said, his voice hoarse from holding back tears. "I thought you were never coming home."

Vale smiled weakly. "It took me longer that I expected." He said, his eyes darting across the room, looking for the youngest member of their family.

"Where's Le?" he asked when they separated. "I know she's healed, but where is she?"

"How did you…?" Julian asked puzzled, but seemed to decide he didn't want to know. "I accidentally covered her with flour, she's in the bathroom."

"I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you." Marie said, trying to inject some cheerfulness into her tone. "First though, I think perhaps you might like a shower."

Vale blushed, but when he looked into Marie's face, he saw no pity or disgust there. He didn't speak, but he nodded reluctantly and followed her out of the room and up the stairs, into Matt's (and his?) bedroom, where she revolved the wardrobe until she got what she was looking for.

"Now, here are some of Matt's old clothes for you to wear when you've cleaned yourself up a bit."

Vale opened his mouth almost at once, but Marie quickly interrupted any protests he had.

"I don't want any arguments. These don't fit Matt anymore and you used to wear his clothes more often that your own."

"Okay Mom." Vale murmured, taking the offered bundle of clothes cautiously.

"Take as long as you need, Vale." Marie said as she gestured the bathroom after noticing his reluctance. "There'll be some food waiting for you when you're finished."

She said this last statement casually, but in truth she was deadly serious. The boy in front of her was in need of a decent meal. As she walked down the stairs, she heard the bathroom's door opening, and knowing Lea was going to come out. She hoped their meeting would go well.

* * *

When Lea was half the way to get fully dressed, she realized she had forgotten her socks and shoes. Pulling at her gem, an habit she had developed, she walked out of the bathroom, with the misfortune of slipping on the still humid floor.

She didn't make it to the floor. A pair of hands caught her while she was in the process of heading hands-first to the floor. The girl blinked in confusion before she lifted her gaze from the floor and immediately backed away from brown eyes. She would have slipped again if the boy hadn't caught her. Blushing furiously, she broke free from his grasp while looking where she was stepping.

"Thanks." She said casually, trying to distract the boy's attention from her.

"No problem." The blond boy said, looking as though holding back a laugh. "You haven't changed, Le, have you?" a grin uncurled on his face.

"How do you know my name, and what do you mean?" And what happened to you?! She almost asked, seeing the state of the visitor. The grin slipped from his face.

"You don't know me?"

Vale's mind was a whirlwind. The world could be so complicated for him. Even when he got something right, it could still go wrong. How was he supposed to tell his nine year old sister who he was? And more importantly, _how_ would she take it?

_How can you not remember me?_

_Don't you remember the one who was always with you, even when you were on a bad mood?_

_Have I changed that much?_

_Have I been gone for so long you forgot you other half?_

_You still have my gem, I see. Do you still think of me, at least? Do you hate me? Talk, Le. I need to know._

"You do look familiar…" she trailed off, before shaking her head a bit. "Who are you?"

Vale smiled. "Who am I?" he asked back, kneeling before her and putting a hand to his chest. He touched where he knew was his golden spot, dulled. Lea gasped.

And her green eyes recovered their usual sparkle.

Lea lunged at him, almost strong enough to make him fall. He pulled her closer, enjoying the feeling of having her in her arms.

"I knew you would come, I knew it, I _knew_ it." She repeated over and over again, her voice choked up. Vale wiped his face hastily.

"I promised I'd never leave without you. Belloc isn't someone who breaks promises, but then again, neither am I."

Lea growled a bit before separating from him. "Don't mention him. What happened to you?"

"I'll explain it later, Little Seer." Vale said, enjoying the way the girl's eyes shined when he said that old nickname. "Mom told me to take a bath, I really need it." He sighed, but Lea wouldn't let go of him, no matter how he tried, she was clinging to him like a lifeline.

"I guess the bath will have to wait, huh?" the boy shook his head as his sister finally released him and pulled him back downstairs.

"You have a lot to catch up, I have so much to tell you. Did you know Darren beat Troy up? Seems like he was upset with me falling so he took matters on his own hands. At least, that's when he told me…"

* * *

Staring at the few pieces of coal in his hands, he frowned. He had eaten only the foul taste of his own hungry breath for what felt like weeks, and still, nothing.

He set two aside and devoured the third. The noise was astounding. Surely Belloc himself could hear the sound of the coal crushing in his mouth. It broke his teeth with every bite. When he drank, he was quite positive that he was swallowing them. _Next time_, he advised himself, _drink first._

"Done." Vale said, looking up to his Mom. She looked at him with a concerned expression.

"Vale, I know you don't feel very hungry, but you must eat." The redheaded woman replied, eyeing the jacket that hung off his very thin frame, only serving to extenuate the boy's skinniness.

Vale sighed and turned his attention towards a little amount of meat that was on one side of his plate. Unwillingly, he picked up a slice and nibbled at it. The flavor was as indescribably wonderful as he remembered. His stomach began to roil as he finished the first bite. Accepting that for them he looked as if he needed the food, he ate a little more willingly.

Glancing down, he saw that another slice of meat had been added to his plate along with a small mountain of coal. He swallowed down nausea but wouldn't object. Trying not to see the food, he began to eat it without looking about to see the pleased, faintly relieved expression of his mom. He ate almost half of the mountain of food before he was in imminent danger of making a mess. He had long ago learned that any discomfort he had should be kept to himself, and not inflicted upon others.

"Excuse me." he said, before running off to where (if he remembered correctly) was the bathroom.

Desperately, he peered through the first door and found, to his relief, the bathroom. He threw himself to his knees before the toilet. Giving up the fight to keep the food he had eaten down, he gagged. Even after there was nothing left in his stomach, his body continued to heave in rebellion.

At last, feeling weak and drained, he fell still. For a long moment, exhausted, he allowed his forehead to rest on the rim of the toilet. Clenching his eyes, he could feel tears escape the sudden pressure and roll down his cheeks. Horrified, he rubbed them off with the back of his hand. He rose smoothly to his feet, resisting the urge to steady himself against the wall.

He took a deep breath, wiping his face of emotion, and washed his hands, made a cup of them, and gathered water to rinse his mouth. It tasted unpleasantly of strong soap, but it replaced the acrid tang of bile. He swallowed the handful of water, rinsed off his flushed face, and dragged one arm across it to dry it. His hands he dried on the thighs of his pants. A glance in the mirror told him he bore no sign of discomfort, so he turned, left the room, and returned to the living room.

"Mom, I'm not hungry anymore." He said when he returned.

Marie opened his mouth to protest as Matt and Lea looked at him, but Julian cut them off.

"Leave him be. If he's not hungry then you can't force him." The look of his dad's face was one that Vale often had seen in Lea when he tried to hide something from her. Julian had noticed Vale's extreme reluctance to eat, and his eating pace. Almost to the point of making himself sick. Add to that his trip to the bathroom and Julian had a very good idea of when had happened.

Going from to eat basically nothing to a lot would cause a lot of pain and he didn't want that for Vale. He was sure he had already been in more pain than anyone could fathom. Losing his mother, being dumped into an orphanage, and when things were going well, he had everything he cared about ripped from him, and abused to top it off.

It was obvious Vale would have to be reinserted to society sooner or later. Julian was just worried about what people may think. He wasn't an idiot; even if he was acting Julian could see that Vale was badly scarred by his ordeal at his father's. It was obvious; he wasn't like normal thirteen-year-old children.

Vale faltered. "Maybe I can take a few more bites."

* * *

Lea chatted with him all the way to the bathroom. When Lea finally closed the door behind her to give him some privacy, Vale released a deep breath and finally allowed the tension to leave his body.

Now that he was alone he could start to relax a bit, but he still hated feeling so off-kilter.

Vale growled in frustration as he pulled off his ratty clothing and jacket and fiddled with the shower. He hated not knowing what would happen.

Stepping under the water, Vale pushed his painful thoughts away as he allowed the hot water to hit his battered body. It had been so long since he had had a shower that he couldn't prevent the sigh of relief from escaping his mouth.

It would feel good to be clean, at least.

He began to scrub almost viciously at his skin, trying to erase the grime that covered him, doing his best to ignore the pain that the action caused in his shoulder.

He couldn't erase his doubts and uncertainties though, and hot tears escaped from his eyes, travelling down the rivers of mud on his cheeks and dropping to the floor, becoming invisible in the pool of water and dirt as he washed away as much as he could of his previous life.

* * *

**So, the Whites are now in the picture. Did you like the chap? Review!**


	15. INFO- A PLACE TO INTERACT

Not a chapter. Sorry.

I've decided to create a facebook group for my stories! There, I'll share snippets or the upcoming chapters, pictures my friends have done, extra information and answer questions to your satisfaction. Also, you may share YOUR casting and insights on the stories. We all have a thing or two in common, right? Let's take advantage of it!

Just go on facebook an type **groups/619679908163424** and ask to join the group.

I think it's a good way for all of us interact and have fun!

Thanks,

H. E. B.


	16. Flying through hopes

**Guys, I'm terribly sorry for the delay in this! Okay, here it is the new chapter! I was expecting it would be better, but I can't seem to get the perfect one.**

_**"Flying is learning how to throw yourself to the ground and miss."**_

* * *

Vale woke up, sweat completely soaking his pajamas and his hair. He looked frantically around, his inborn fight or flight instincts screaming at him to find the threat so he could run away from it. He couldn't do anything to quell the panic that gripped him so tightly he couldn't breathe; desperately fighting for control he gripped the sheets and bent his will towards slowing his heart rate and frantic breathing.

He could see that cruel smirk replaying in his mind. Those unforgiving eyes, taunting him, threatening him until he was forced to comply, and then so easily betraying him with his own obedience. _Why is he so merciless? Why he can't just leave me be? Haven't I done enough?_

As his vision slowly cleared, he frowned. For once the darkness didn't feel thick and suffocating. The air was warm, rather than a stiff, constant cold, and moved in currents of gentle wind. A boy was sleeping beside him, and Vale waited for that moment, when he finally got his hopes up and he would see that the darkness had consumed him, along with the world around them.

Thick, suffocating darkness. He could feel it all around him. The feeling had become familiar by now. It clung to him, weighing down his limbs, endless abysmal black, snuffing out every hint of light or warmth that had existed just moments ago. The stiff, cold air settling in around him, and he pulled his gaze downwards as once again he had the feeling of being swallowed into the shadows.

In desperation, he blinked once, twice, thrice, to affirm (in vain, he was sure) it was just the inside of his eyelids that he was seeing.

Oddly, the room seemed to be brightening. Slowly, Vale allowed his eyes to lift from his bed and travel upwards, until they found an open window in the room. Judging by it, the sun was beginning to rise, with colors of bright orange, reddish pinks and yellows.

Vale came to a sudden halt, his eyes had found their way back down, but the image had become distorted. The shapes blurred and colors melted into one another until the world became a watery smudge, and then the tears fell. He shuddered, clutching at his sheets, creasing the soft fabric, his vision blurring in and out of focus as tears fell and new ones swelled in his eyes.

It truly was no dream.

A sigh of happiness escaped him as he looked over to Matt's sleeping form, before wiping his eyes. It would be difficult to sleep with the daylight on his face. He began lunging out of bed, but he quickly stopped himself when he realized there was a girl lying next to and partially on him. He slowly sat up instead, gently dislodging his sister.

Lea blinked and raised her head sleepily, awakened by the sudden absence of warmth. She seemed disoriented for a few minutes as Vale waited quietly for her to wake up. When the redheaded appeared to be thinking coherently, Vale started talking. "Morning, Little Seer. Are you feeling alright?"

It took another minute for Lea to respond."Oh, just perfectly awake when I should be sleeping. Why are you awake at such an abominable part of the day?" Lea seemed extremely irritated, and she made it quite clear in her hissing. She weakly waved a hand and the curtains closed, dimming the light from outside.

"I'm sorry. The light woke me." Vale laid down again, the lie slipping easily through his teeth. He briefly wondered when would his connection to his sister recovered, if ever.

"I wanna sleep. Someone is going to come here and I don't wanna be tired." The younger brother raised an eyebrow at Lea's sleepy complains. No one could be here, it wasn't a common knowledge that he had arrived. "Why does Mom and Dad said that we have to go to school?"

"it has been three days, people will start getting suspicious. Go back to..." the boy trailed off when he saw his human teddy bear already fast asleep again. _Impressive_. If he was lucky, he would sleep some more.

* * *

He had no such luck. Both Matt and him had realized they couldn't go to sleep just yet, so his brother proposed to pass the time a little game of chess. _'Doesn't matter if we don't finish, we still have a whole hour!'_ he had said.

"Are you sure you don't want _anything_ to eat?" Matt asked while finishing his sandwich. Vale shook his head.

"I'm not hungry." Matt just sighed.

Matt took the chessboard with the pieces, always lying on the table, and arranged the rooks first, followed by the knights, bishops, and then the king and queen, adjusting them so that they faced each other over the battlefield of alternating squares. The pawns came next in a pair of long rows, the first line of defense or attack.

"Which one goes first?" Vale asked softly. "I forgot." he added when Matt looked at him in surprise. It had been a while, hadn't it?

"Ah, it's white that goes first. Would you like to be white?"

"I don't mind black." Vale said as he moved the board so the black pieces were on his side.

"Let's see if we can start this off right." The older brother said, and advanced one of his pawns two steps. Vale frowned a bit, and Matt concealed a small smile at how cautious he was being: a single move wasn't much to go on, and yet his only brother was utterly silent as he thought, and so he waited for him.

The blonde sent one of his own pawns forward two spaces, holding onto it for several long moments before tentatively putting it down on its own square.

Matt moved a knight out from behind his row of pawns and Vale tilted his head, intrigued. He didn't ask, just copied him, glancing up and smiling at his encouraging look. This time he set the piece down much more firmly, and Matt nodded approvingly. "Good move."

"It's not anywhere near over yet." Vale said, and pushed a pawn forward one space.

"True." Matt admitted, and did the same. He had started with no plan in mind, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his little brother win, not now not ever. Vale surprised him by taking one of his pawns with his knight: he hadn't even noticed it was in danger.

"First blood!" Vale smirked as Matt frowned at him.

Their game proceeded in the same manner, with both brothers thinking their movements through, the older becoming increasingly fascinated while the younger grew bolder, his moves sloppier, more aggressive, but there was something beautiful about it.

"Check." Matt stopped trying to catch Vale's king with his towers and noticed the issue on his side. He couldn't move the king one step forward, he had a tower blocking him. He couldn't move to the right, he had a bishop who would take him. To the left, he had no room.

How the _hell _didn't he see that coming?

With a sigh, he moved the piece to the right, happy and annoyed in equal parts when he heard his little brother's vindictive 'Checkmate'.

"Lesson learned, check upon your defenses once in a while." Matt said with a huff. Not even that was able to wipe the victorious smile on Vale's face. The black-haired boy was about to retort when he looked at the clock. "Aw, shit! Five minutes!"

"You don't mind me going, don't you?" Matt asked while seemingly trying to gather his notebooks at record speed, to his brother's obvious amusement. Vale rolled his eyes good-naturally, in the past three days Matt had displayed a whole side Vale didn't know he posessed.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Vale said with the most reassuring voice he could muster. He didn't blame him for being so protective, but still...

"Saw the guys walking past here a while ago." he commented. Matt's movements slowed down a bit. "They looked good..." Vale trailed off. The reminder of the time that had passed was something that really pained him. "And they're all taller than me. Why is everyone taller than me?!"

Matt frowned. Vale was far shorter than him, even if he was younger for a year. He had his suspicions about why, but he didn't say them aloud. "Maybe you are just a late bloomer." He reassured him, falling silent when Lea suddenly appeared in the room, gathering her own notebooks with successives _Torri_ here and there, earning puzzled looks from her brothers.

"You were so grumpy this morning, I thought you had two hours more to sleep,_ minimum_!" Vale said in astonishment.

"…That is awesome, but impractical." Matt murmured as he watched the girl appearing and disappearing. "You could do all that by walking a few steps."

Lea looked at him, stuck out her tongue and disappeared once more. Matt looked around for her, but she didn't appear again.

"…Where did she go?"

"Judging by the time, big brother, to school. And forgot to take you along." Vale said, his eyes shining with mirth. "If I were you, I'd start running." He had barely finished his sentence when Matt stormed out of the house.

* * *

Vale rested his head on the pillow, letting his eyes rest from the book he had been reading. His siblings would be there at any moment. He felt himself grin at the thought; there he was, reading a book, and his biggest worry was when his siblings would arrive. God he _was_ content.

Playful chirping prompted his eyes to open. They instantly sought out the source: two birds soared high above, their silhouettes barely identifiable as the climbed higher, calling happily to each other. As if in response, the small red wings that he knew were inside him made their presence known by a soft pain on his back.

His eyes never left the fast-disappearing birds as his smile slid off.

Even when he was in his first fly, he wasn't able to do it without feeling pain, flying near the ground, couldn't fly very far. As much as he wished to try and see if he could, he knew it would never happen. His wings would never support him in a long flight, they were too weak and twisted awkwardly behind him.

Now, his wings simply felt restless. Vale had not once taken the liberty to stretch his wings. A small part of him had been scared of his family's reaction. He knew it was silly, but opening his wings inside his house, as when he had left he was a different person felt… wrong.

But, oh; how he longed to join those free birds in the sky! Since he had discovered his wings he had dreamed of touching the sky; to stretch and soar high above the clouds, feeling the cool air rushing by and knowing he could go anywhere he longed to. In the sky, no one was your master. He might not be able to fly, but he was still able to feel the air beneath his wings.

The pain grew and Vale found himself rolling his shoulders absentmindedly. An urge to run around the room flapping his wings had slowly been overpowering him. They needed to be exercised in order to keep functioning properly, like any other limb, didn't them? Maybe, maybe giving them a few stretches wouldn't hurt anything.

Without letting himself think, he very slowly rolled his shoulders down and allowed his wings to unfurl. A soft ripping sound filled the bedroom, though he paid the pain no mind. His heart was beating faster now. There wasn't room in the position he was sitting to completely open his wings, but a giggle escaped him anyways as the edges pushed against the wall in their eagerness to extend fully.

Breathing deeply in happiness, the boy stepped away from the glass and threw his head back as his wings straightened out as much as they could, flapping gently. It felt too good. The urge to force the window open and feel the morning breeze was too strong, and he couldn't be seen with wings, so Vale stepped out of bed and spread his arms wide, not hesitating now to open his wings to their full spread. The feeling was glorious.

Experimentally he gave a few large flaps. A magazine on the desk flipped a few pages over as the resultant breeze ran against the closed pages. He felt empowered again, rebellious, alive as he hadn't felt since a long time ago. Though he knew his dream to fly wouldn't come true even if he spent the rest of his life attempting to rehabilitate himself, simply knowing that his wings were still functional after the effort of his first flight made him incredibly happy.

He faintly heard voices downstairs. Good, so they had arrived already. He wondered how would be their expressions when they saw them with wings. Sure, he couldn't fly, but the fact that he had them…ha!

The urge of seeing just how much he was truly able to fly made him move to the large bookshelf. Realizing some books of the higher shelves were ones he didn't recognize, he tried to see the titles. Standing, even on tip toes, Vale couldn't see the tops of the three highest shelves. Stepping back, he jumped, wings rustling as he craned his neck. Ah, he could see the third shelf. When he tried to simply grab onto the bookshelf and pull himself up, it had swayed dangerously, so that idea was out.

He jumped again, but still the top two shelves evaded his efforts to examine them. Huffing in annoyance, Vale stepped back, spread his wings as much as he could, and jumped again; as he lifted, he flapped once, knowing he wouldn't be able to stay airborne but simply hoping that the updraft would push him higher, even momentarily.

He dropped like a stone and immediately leaped again, flapping his wings, which struggled to obey his wishes. Alas, they were no help to his desire and only succeeded in knocking over the pictures on the lower shelves with the gusts of air. Attempting to lift his body higher into the air on deformed wings had been an absurd idea. This was the first time he'd actively tried to use his wings, and it felt mildly disappointing to be reminded of his handicap. With a cry of exasperation, Vale fell back to the earth, wings fluttering ungainly behind him as he fought to regain his balance.

He was about to fall to the floor when two hands caught him, even lifting him up so he could stand on his feet again. They fought a bit, for his wings still gave flaps trying to stabilize himself, but eventually he managed. He turned around and froze.

_Man, I can't get a break!_ Vale thought alarmed, for the one who had helped him wasn't any of his family. He had a familiar feeling, like he was supposed to know him, but he couldn't place his finger on it. And he had seen him with wings!

"Who are you?" Vale asked, an unknown emotion for him making his heart beat faster as he stared into familiar eyes. The other boy smiled.

"Your ally."

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Suggestions? I won't ask who is the one that found Vale practicing flight because that is too obvious. Review!**

**H. E. B.**


	17. Lack of reaction

**Guys, I'm terribly sorry for the delay in this! Okay, here it is the new chapter! I was expecting it would be better, but I can't seem to get the perfect one.**

_**"It may be our actions that define us, but it is our reaction that changes the course of things." ** _

* * *

Bickering was all that Darren heard as he appeared in the house where the redheaded princess resided. He blinked when he spotted the two of them walking through the door, Lea a picture of placation while Matt looked ready to burst.

"All right, why don't we see if we can bring this back to topi-"

"Let me ask you something, Lea." Matt cut her off. Darren wondered why Matt was so more short-tempered than usual. More on edge.

"I guess not." Lea said resignedly.

"What if I had a girlfriend…for example Jenna Shwartzendruber-," Matt said while naming a girl Darren knew was in his class.

"Oh come one, Matthew, be realistic." Lea snapped at him, making Matt stutter with anger and Darren to try hiding his laughter, which eventually was a lost battle.

"What are YOU doing here?" the older boy asked, shock clear on his expression. It was obvious he hadn't noticed Darren when he first appeared. "Don't you know it's rude to pop up in people's houses without them inviting you?"

"Didn't you know I was coming?" Darren asked in confusion, his laughter vanishing away. "Lea asked me to come after school, said she had something to tell me…" he eyed the younger girl as the brother huffed and made his way to the kitchen.

Darren was about to question her about the entire situation when he stopped. He had thought he heard something upstairs, some sort of crash... He turned to the redheaded girl.

"Lea, besides your brother, am I right in thinking there's nobody else in the house?" the little smile Lea had been wearing with the pride of winning that sibling-ly quarrel vanished instantly, her hand writhing in uncertainty.

"…No." she said with slight hesitation.

"Then there is someone else in the house?"

"Sorry, I said 'no' meaning 'yes'."

"'No' meaning 'yes'? For God's sake Lea, a straight answer. Is there someone else, or isn't there? Yes or no?"

"No."

"No there _is_, or no there _isn't_?"

"PLEASE!" Matt growled from the kitchen. Darren raised an eyebrow. "Sorry Matt, but there's still confusion as to whether or not there is anyone else in this house."

"I told you, there isn't!" Lea said exasperated. In response, Darren leaned down, clearly struggling to be patient.

"There is any _confusion_, or there isn't anybody else?" Lea stopped for a moment.

"Either! Or both." At that point Darren was ready to tear off his hair.

"Just give me a clear answer!" he hissed.

"Of course! What was the question again?"

"**Is there anyone else in this house?!"**

"NO!" Both Matt and Lea shouted. Darren stared at them.

"That's what you _say_, but do you _know_?" the Kaiju asked, now clearly hearing something from upstairs.

"_PLEASE_!" Matt growled again, this time smashing his glass of water on the table. "Go check if it's that important!"

"I will." Darren snapped, heading straight upstairs. He never saw Matt's eyes widen, freeze, and then curse under his breath.

"Do you know what _subtlety_ means, hmm?" Lea asked him with a long-suffering sigh, without mentioning the fact that no amount of distracting would keep Darren away from upstairs for so long, not if he suspected something was up.

"What? I wasn't the one that decided to distract him with unclear sentences!" Matt huffed at the younger girl, his black hair seeming to spike with indignation.

"_You_ were the one that let him pass!" Lea's shout flew past Darren's head as he blocked out the siblings' bickering, letting his instincts take over for the second time in a few days.

It was the odd, yet familiar scent that lured him on.

Anger, blind resentment – these feelings had once been as familiar as had been stone and moisture. He had thrived on them; accepted them as part of his world without thought or meaning. They alone would not have driven him forth into the dwelling of his allies. No, it was the dense, heavy tang of fire and earth and...something else, something _familiar_, that had called him forwards.

He could smell him, for Darren was sure it was a he – one little half-grown Kaiju – his scent filled his nostrils and his senses. He swam in a fog of his overwhelming scent. How could he have missed it before – his blood mixed and hot and powerful.

An intruder in his friends' house, probably with the intention of harming them -he had seen enough evidence with the attacks others of his kind –and Darren himself—had perpetrated upon the weaker specie. Well, he'd gladly dispose of him.

He wandered in confusion, tracking the smell through the house. He pursued it, shoving aside the door and entering the room.

He could almost taste the hot blood and warm flesh on his tongue. He swung his head from side to side, sniffing, seeking it. Rational thoughts started leaking in his mind –it wouldn't do well if he went completely instinct-driven now.

Even if he really wanted to.

_Can't see me. Can't hear me._

Darren would think that, or whisper under his breath and people's eyes just sort of _slide_ over him like he was not there. Sometimes. Or it doesn't work, period.

But _sometimes_ it does work, and sometimes is more than enough.

Darren looked around and found himself catching a boy who went past him in a blur of red. As he stood, the Kaiju noticed that the boy had wings, red wings that stuck out from his body at awkward angles.

Darren stifled a growl, eager for a fight that he knew would win easily. If anything, the boy seemed a more likely target than a perpetrator. When released, the boy didn't move at all. But that wasn't what made Darren's eyes widen and his jaw drop.

The figure looked up and it was only years of control that stopped Darren making a sound as he saw who it was. It wasn't as if he didn't know his identity, of that he was sure, but he was so different from anything Darren could have pictured.

He had confused friend with foe, he had almost…!

"Who are you?" there was something in his tone that set Darren on edge but he wasn't conscious enough to acknowledge it. After the first few seconds of surprise Vale had automatically tensed.

Despite the situation, and trying with all his might to fend off the lingering shock, Darren smiled.

"Your ally." He answered, waiting for his friend to relax before making any moves. Vale's posture was closed, defensive. His face seemed to mirror a hundred emotions at once, before settling in recognition.

"Hey, Ren." Vale greeted, waiting for the first sign of a reaction of the pale-eyed boy. _'What's with Kaiju and long hair?'_ he wondered, noticing Darren's hair reaching down his shoulders. Time had been kind to him physically speaking; Vale could see the inches and pounds gained, the odd combination of dark hair and light eyes suiting him –he was attractive, if you didn't take into account the obviously offensive position he had been before recognition had flickered. For that, Vale was immensely glad –if he had to battle him, he was sure the odds wouldn't be on his favor-. He briefly wondered how would his true form be –from what he knew about Heishas Darren would already have the grey markings on his eyes and forehead –he'd have to ask him to show them sometime.

He discarded those thoughts and was briefly amused to see him gaping like a fish out of water.

"How…what…when did _that_ happen?" was Darren's almost incoherent question, choosing to moving in circles around Valentine, taking in his wings, and obviously his changes. In comparison to the males he had seen, Vale was quite jealous of their appearances –and that had _nothing_ to do with him being quite shorter than Darren-. Not at all.

"This?" Vale asked while flapping his wings once, feeling a bit proud. "How on Earth do you think I managed to get here? On foot?" he questioned, failing to mention that a bit of it had been on foot.

"Can you really fly with them?" the strangely calm boy asked back, stalking him like a prey, eyes absolutely wide. Vale had to repress a chuckle at his expression.

"Yes…No…a bit." he admitted bitterly while stretching his wings, giving Darren the opportunity to look at the mess that were his new appendages. Darren suppressed a wince; to have wings and not being able to do what they were supposed to do…

Darren blinked a few times to get his thoughts in order, to allow himself to see this wasn't an illusion. Of course this wasn't an illusion, his friend was here, but it was all _wrong_. He had almost attacked him, and yet Valentine puzzled him and that allowed his thoughts to head in an unwanted direction, since Darren realized his friend _had_ known he was about to be attacked.

He didn't try to get away.

He didn't try to fight back.

His eyes _had been_ alarmed, sure, but there wasn't any movement.

Why did the reaction troubled him so?

What was it about the boy's lack of response that worried him? He knew –had known- him. Stupid, idiotic, reckless-but brave. Determined. He wouldn't just give up, he'd try to escape and fight back.

At least, that's how Darren was sure his reaction would've been before.

Had his friend changed that much?

He seemed skinny, too skinny, half starved. And then there were the scars, fading in front of his eyes. He folded his hands, trying to ease his fear. Surely he was imagining this. Surely, surely. It couldn't be what he feared.

Pausing in his study of his Prince, Darren used a technique his uncle had taught him; it was just for checking, he reminded himself, just to see his doubts were meaningless. The Kaiju closed his eyes and allowed himself to focus. No parent, no matter how weak the offspring was, would never…never…

Light shot up despite his closed lids, causing horror to swell within him and almost causing him to choke. This was worse than he had ever imagined, this wasn't supposed to happen, it just wasn't a natural reaction for the body or the magic. He had an uncharacteristic impulse to yell and scream and cry.

Vale tensed when he heard Darren's shuddering gasp, wondering what he had found. Had one of his scars opened again? The Kaiju surprised him when he grabbed Vale by the arm and spun him around. Vale tensed, half expecting to be hit or simply yelled at.

Instead, incredibly, he was pulled into a rough embrace.

Vale stiffened and tried to pull away. Darren was rigid, completely unaccustomed to this and even more put off by Vale's reaction. But he was also strong and he did not give up easily. He pulled Vale back and held him in place, a hand cupped around each shoulder.

It was awkward, and painfully obvious that they were both uncomfortable.

But even though he had had his fair share of hugs these past days, each time he craved for it, he had wanted this for so long…

His chest was beginning to ache with the effort to hold back his grief. It wasn't that he forgot who was holding him. It was just that other things became more important. A solid, breathing body supported him. The hands slowly eased their grip on his shoulders, arms cautiously wrapping around him. And suddenly it didn't matter so much that it was Darren. What mattered was the tangible comfort being offered.

When they separated, he could see many emotion in the grey eyes. Anger and sorrow and disbelief and guilt all swirling inside eyes that at that moment were changing –so much that Vale could see the slitting pupil and the markings in his face—.

"I knew I should have tried harder to take you out of there." There was a surprising amout of bitterness that hadn't been there before. "If I had known the true extent…"

"What are you talking about?" Vale asked, completely confused. Darren hesitated, trying to make him see it in a way that wouldn't be too confusing.

"When did you get that scar…if you don't mind me asking?" the randomness of the question surprised the other.

Vale hesitated, before deciding to answer truthfully. "Ah, nothing. My father cut a little too deep and he wasn't sure if I would survive it." He answered, gently tracing the pale scar from eyebrow to chin.

"How did he keep you from bleeding to death?" Darren asked, knowing that if he had cut a vein on his temple it would have been fatal.

"Ah, that." The smaller boy smiled a worrisome grin. "He cauterized it."

"He did _what_?!" Darren exclaimed loudly, completely caught off guard.

"Apparently my immunity to fire is only skin deep. He set my wound on fire, allowing me to survive," the boy said coolly, as though he were merely commenting on the weather and not the insanity of cauterizing flesh. "I can't say that didn't hurt. Luckily I only have one more scar."

Darren stared at him, speechless. Vale could practically feel his shock. After a few minutes, he grew quite concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Am I all right? Are YOU all right? You just said your father almost killed you a few times, and neither your face nor you voice wavered for even one second!"

"He didn't want to kill me." Vale said, hoping his statement didn't seem as though he was _defending_ his father. "He could have done so many times, but he always healed the worst. He wants me alive." Though it hadn't stopped him to wonder whether or not one day he would be killed in the lair.

Darren stared at him with an unreadable expression. "You need healing." He stated, and there was no malice behind his words.

"I don't _need_ healing." Vale argued, but on the inside he was evaluating Darren's response. Did that mean that his treatment wasn't normal, even for Kaiju standards? God, how stupid he had been? Darren didn't have any marks, fast healing or not!

"You," Darren stated firmly, "need healing more than anyone I've ever seen. And believe me, I've seen a very large number of hurt people. I am a true Kaiju, after all" Darren frowned, and went silent for a while. Suddenly he spoke up. "Did you know that you're doing magic as we speak? And have been, more or less constantly, for years now?"

Vale felt his heart clench and his breathing lighten to short fearful gasps. What was Darren saying? He _couldn't_ do magic. He had tried, sure, but the only thing he had been able to do was to quicken his self-healing. He _didn't_ have any magical ability. Next to none.

"What?" he managed.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I know he didn't let you eat often. Look at yourself!" Darren said, and continued to drown out the protests that were already beginning. "In your attempts to try not to be hungry, and not to eat, you used magic to… stretch the food you ate. Drastically. Much more than I would have imagined possible, because you even went so far as getting nourishment from such an amount that really should have left you much sicker. Or dead. You have been throwing up since you came home, haven't you?" Darren took a wild guess trying to prove his point, and Vale's silence confirmed it."That's because have been eating more normally. Your magic magnifies and stretches it to an incredible degree, making it seem, to your body, that you've overeaten. You're using every thread of magic you can to _protect_ yourself, nourish yourself." His eyes then widened to a point it was almost comical. "He has been teaching you, hasn't he? Or trying to? I don't know if it was on purpose, but he _must_ know that the only reason you're even still alive is because your body was caused to practically force your magic to help you live."

Shaking his head disbelievingly, Vale backed up a few steps. How dared Darren mock him like that?

He couldn't do magic.

If he could, did Darren honestly think he would have spent the last entire three years of his life barely surviving? Did he actually think he would have been there at all? That he didn't remember the spell Lea used, that he didn't utter it so many times over the years? The one that would take him away from his father…?

"No!" Vale shouted, shaking his head violently as he tried to suppress the painful memories he had tried so hard to forget. He was messing with him. He was making fun of him, he must be.

Because it couldn't be true.

As his eyes snapped open, Vale turned to face the Kaiju, absently noting his widened eyes and pale face. His mind was suddenly blissfully blank, as if someone had simply muted his thoughts. In fact, there was only one thought on his mind now.

"You're wrong." he told him desperately, his tone much calmer now, although his pale, sweating face gave his true emotions away, and his eyes failed to hide his hurt and anger.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Darren asked, curious and slightly taken aback, dreading the answer. "Why, when I've shown you what I can do, what you can do too. You _can_ do magic, there's no other explanation! Why can't you see that -?"

"Because maybe I could have saved myself!" Vale yelled, his voice breaking with pent up emotion. "Do you think I liked living like that!? he continued, his breathing heavy, oblivious to Darren's state of shock as he continued to talk. "Do you think I wanted to live with my father?! I HAD NO CHOICE! If I could do magic, I would have been able to save myself!"

"Vale," Darren said slowly, his eyes wide in realization. "Magic, i-it doesn't work like that. Although I don't know how you changed your food, I don't think you could have figured it out well enough to escape. Wild magic, before you're trained on it, is, well, _wild_…" he remained deep in thoughts for a few minutes. "Unless that by the time you started doing magic, you were desperate enough to completely twist its purpose. Starting slowly. A nutrient here, a shortage there. A few calories boosted. And then it grew as your diet shrank, your magic, you, instinctively learned to fill the gaps." seeing Vale's expression, Darren sighed. "I can help you stop doing the magic, if you like."

Vale pondered for a moment if asking Rîus wouldn't be a better idea, but he definitely trusted Darren the most, besides, with something that personal…"Yes." he whispered. "Please."

"Okay… In order to stop the magic you must first be able to tell when you are using it. What I want you to do is close your eyes, and then focus in that same way."

Vale blinked. "I— Ren, how can I focus with my eyes closed?"

"Nobody ever said it would be easy." the Kaiju commented.

Slowly, gradually, his friend talked him through the process, advising him, until suddenly, despite the fact that his eyes were closed, sight burst upon him. Darren was glowing so brightly it almost hurt his eyes. His eyes slammed open and the light vanished. "What-"

"Very good!" Darren murmured, his eyes shining. "Very good indeed. You saw the magic. When you look at yourself you will always see a faint magic - a light glow. You must find that way of looking again, and this time look down at yourself. There will always be a faint glow. Everyone has that, even humans. The first time I saw Lea's, it almost blinded me. But if you have a brighter glow around your stomach and digestive tract, that means that magic is actively affecting that area of you. So try again and look down before opening your eyes."

Again, he turned his gaze inwards. This time he held the focus that let him see the light when it appeared and turned his gaze downwards. In horror, he found that Darren was right. His midsection was glowing nearly as brightly as the other boy. He bit his lip, hard, staring down at himself in horror.

"Excellent!" Darren applauded, as though blind to his misery. "Now you must touch that magic with your mind and tell it that you don't need it any more. That you want it to stop."

One hand twitched towards his stomach, and Darren snapped. "No, don't touch with your hands. That will only confuse you. Touch with your mind." Vale obeyed, and began to say the words, but the Kaiju boy, who seemed to enjoy teaching, interrupted again. "No, not like that. Not saying it or thinking it. _Knowing_ it. It cannot be simply words, but meaning. Belief. You must want it to end, you must convince it that it is unnecessary."

That, at least, was not hard. He _didn't_ want it. Didn't need it. Wanted nothing to do with the magic in that way. He was safe now. He could eat. It clung obstinately to him, despite his beliefs.

"Think not about the magic itself, but about what it's doing." Darren suggested. "Think about having plenty of food, about not needing to stretch a little. Think about not being hungry."

"I'm _not_ hungry." Vale replicated.

"You are, actually. It's just that your concept of hunger has been twisted to the point that you don't think you're hungry until anyone else would be sobbing with the misery of it. But it's not me you have to convince, but your magic. This will not last, by the way. I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to do this several times a day until the magic finally comes to realize that you do not need it. And I would recommend you be very careful to keep fed. Have a couple small meals in between the meals with you family, and possibly another just before you go to bed. If you get hungry – that means _real_ hunger, not just what you consider hunger, if you feel even the slightest bit empty – the magic will feel itself needed and come back. If you keep full for a while it will gradually give up its attempts to help you in that way."

Vale briefly wondered how Darren knew all this, before he nodded his understanding, concentration completely focused on convincing the magic that he did not need it to help him. And gradually the glow in his middle faded until, at last, it vanished, leaving a pale glow that was the same as the rest of his body. Exhausted, he drooped forward.

He had expected his reunion with Darren to be many things, but a lesson wasn't one of them.

The blond boy lifted his head to look at the door. "My siblings…"

"I guess they wanted to give us some privacy." Darren said as he helped him to stand. "Have you shown them your wings?" he could imagine their expressions. If there was something that would stop their bickering, it was _that_.

"Nope. I was about to when you came here."

"Why are you so freaked out by this?" Vale asked as they walked down the stairs. "Isn't this normal? Weren't you treated like I was?"

His time alone had left Vale with a lot of time to think. One of the topics he had dwelled upon was this treatment. Vale had reflected what he had become, justifying in his own mind what had happened to him and why. Obviously he deserved it, he obviously wasn't wanted and had to pay. The training he had to do must be the payment. His father's use of him was his way of showing his love, it must be common in Kaiju, mustn't it? Therefore, it was his duty to submit. Thinking about it, it made sense that he was treated more severely than most. He _was_ the heir of the Kaiju, after all.

"Weren't you?" and Darren could feel the note of trepidation, desperation. '_Please tell me it's normal. That I just have to accept things as they are. Please, it will be easier._' But Valentine's treatment had been anything but normal, both by human and Kaiju standards.

"If there was a definition among Kaiju about it, it would be 'abused'." Darren said bluntly, watching as Vale froze, shook his head slightly and rushed down the stairs.

Vale's head was spinning. Abuse. It was an ugly word. A final word. A word that meant the end of normal chats. A word that meant telling a lot of people a lot of things. A word that meant pain.

Vale had never applied it to his own situation. Punishments, discipline, neglect. Oddly enough, it was when he realized how heart-stopping the word was for him, even in the privacy of his own thoughts, that he knew something was wrong. What child can barely think of the word abuse?

_Maybe Darren was exaggerating, _he tried to convince himself_. Yeah, that must be_. That was his thoughts as he pushed it aside and went to meet his siblings.

Halfway down the stairs, Darren stared at his retreating back.

He had not reacted when his sense of safeness had been threatened. He had not reacted at all.

* * *

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**H. E. B.**


	18. Dependence

**I am actually disappointed with myself. All the work that I do in order to make chapters longer, and the best I can come up to is THIS. I am so sorry guys.**

_**"Don't depend too much of anyone in this world. Even your shadow leaves you when you are in darkness." ** _

* * *

"What about my mineral water?" Vale heard Matt asking as he went to them.

"Uh, sorry, I forgot...C'mon...Water is easily forgettable since it's transparent and all..."

_'Seriously Lea?'_ Vale thought in amusement before announcing his presence walking into the living room.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Lea's uncharacteristic outburst had Matt raise his eyebrows at her. The girl ran up to Vale, staring at the wings she was pretty sure hadn't been there before.

The eyes of the oldest of the siblings widened immensely. "This is _not normal_." He said, two seconds away from freaking out. Vale smiled smugly, pleased with the reactions of his siblings.

"I was as surprised as you are when they appeared." Vale honestly said. "I suppose you are curious about how did I manage to get here and all that…I would've waited for Mom and Dad to show up but I know how impatient you two can be." He finished with a small smile.

Matt and Lea eyed each other, unknowingly mirroring each other's thoughts. What had happened upstairs? When Vale got wings?!

Both of them remained silent at the offer that was being presented, indecision clouding their senses.

_"I'm sorry. I don't know how to deal with you. I know you are hurt. Even if there are things I want to know, I don't know how much I can ask. I want to help you, but I don't know what to do. If you don't like it, say so. If you don't want to answer, you don't have to." _Matt wanted to tell him that, but the words never left his mind.

Lea was having a battle of wills within her, and it was driving her up the walls. One part of her wanted to demand answers at whatever cost, she needed answers, wanted to have at least some sort of memory to the horror her brother must have experienced, desperate for memories.

Vale looked at her and bit back a bitter smile. When Lea was little, there had been very little separation between his thoughts and hers. Being a child himself, he had paid it no mind, thinking maybe it was normal and wondering why Matt wouldn't share his thoughts with them. When Vale wanted to, he could let his sister see through his eyes, even when they were in separate rooms. She would see through his eyes as clearly as she could see through hers. And then she would describe the faces to him, and sometimes he would let her hear the voices of the people he talked to.

He had been his little teacher long before Lea had learned to talk and walk.

It was when Lea had a better understanding of the world around her that she realized her brother could hide some of his thoughts from her. He always had his secrets. But Lea was never too curious about them, because she knew her brother.

When they were together as very young children whose minds were completely open to each other, they often had long conversations without uttering a single word.

Lea must have forgotten how to do that now.

Thanks to his father, Valentine had not. Now he knew how to open and bring thoughts inside of _anyone_. Concerning the mind, he had been a very good student. Even if Vale wanted to test if the connection between them was whole again, he didn't. He enjoyed his thoughts being his and only his.

Now, the proximity made him feel her, made him feel better. She kept reaching out to him. She wanted that contact. Vale could feel her longing for the sweetly seamless, easy unity they used to have as children. The barrier between them now couldn't satisfy her desire for the semi-infinite union they shared then. In a way, he could understand her yearning. He had felt the depths of her emptiness. The parts of her mind he once shared are empty, hungry and gaping. He had felt that hollow, gaping emptiness. He knew the ache that only people as close as they used to be can feel when driven apart. It is far worse than the deepest sting of loneliness. He survived it because he had to if he wanted to remain without pain.

Apparently, she never got used to it.

_"You are me and I am you."_

It was just as simple as that.

Breaking contact with the demanding emerald gaze, he was distracted by Matt going behind him and snorting in disbelief. "No tail." He stated.

His little brother stared at him, "What?"

Matt chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "Nothing, you have firebreath, you have wings, scales, reptile eyes…really, the only draconian thing you still don't have is a tail." He snorted.

Vale continued staring at him. "Why would a tail be useful at all?"

"A-HEM." Darren loudly cleared his throat, eyebrows raised. "Don't insult me please. What's with that look? Most Kaiju have tails, let me tell you." He elaborated in answer to Lea's incredulous look.

"Ah I forgot," Vale interrupted what would have been a long debate over the usefulness of that particular appendage. "Darren, is there in your class a Isabel Vasquez and Kenny Rogers?"

"I think so, why?"

* * *

"Two days and you are still whining about that?" Laura sighed.

"You don't say," deadpanned Richard, face full of bruises from the fall. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a huge tunnel and we didn't find one Kaiju."

"For once I'm grateful for that." Barnes said, ignoring the incredulous look his subordinate gave him. "We weren't exactly armed to defend ourselves against a Kaiju at the moment."

"It was a stupid move," Laura Patel opined. Seeing the men's looks, she explained. "Like Barnes said, you weren't many and definitely weren't prepared in case you came across a Kaiju. Besides, going to the center of the lair all by yourselves…some here were making bets if you would come out at all."

"I'm glad to see they worry so much about us." Richard huffed indignantly. "What are you going to do about Belloc's boy?" he asked, fighting a shudder. Even now, thirteen years after the war, the name burned with a cold feeling, ruthlessness, diamond clarity, a hammer of pure titanium descending upon an anvil of yielding flesh. Most of the children regarded the war like adults would do to History lessons, something that already happened and won't happen again. He still remembered, how the previously unknown specie had raged upon the town like starving wolves, tearing and rending at the fabric of their everyday lives. Other countries had wrung their hands but hesitated to intervene, whether of apathetic selfishness or simple fear, for whichever was first among them to oppose this new threat, their peace would be the next target of his terror.

"Well, we can already assume that he's probably with his adopted family, it's not like he's got anywhere else to go."

"So…what's your plan?" Richard asked with interest, realizing the way the white-haired man had sighed.

"Well, I will have to tell the truth to the parents, they can't continue trying to raise that boy." Barnes sighed and reminded himself that what he would do was for the sake of the whole town, of humanity. "I will have to fill some papers…" he was cut off by Patel starting cracking up.

"…Am I missing something? Hey," Richard started but Patel thrust a pile of papers on his hand. "…You will make me apply to a teaching position?" Richard's mouth dropped open in shock, and Patel couldn't keep a straight face any longer and grinned at him like an idiot.

"Gotcha! Just Blitz."

He narrowed his eyes, and she immediately stopped laughing. In fact, he looked rather foreboding.

"Gotcha!" He said and smirked, before laughing again at the white-haired man, his face only making them laugh harder.

* * *

"Your ability to remain alive never ceases to amaze me." Darren bluntly said as the three of them processed what Vale had told them. Vale sheepishly smiled.

"You have to look for those kids tomorrow." Matt said to Darren, both silently agreeing that Vale could very well use some more company.

"You sure you can't fly?" Lea asked excitedly. "One of my drawings has you with wings, remember?" she inquired, with half a mind of going to her room to get that particular sketchbook.

"You sure?" Vale asked, his demeanor suddenly brightening. To being able to truly fly would be absolutely wonderful. When it became apparent that the chatter wasn't going to die down any time soon, he found himself starting to doze.

It had to be something equivalent a small half-thought flittering through his mind. It was nothing but a lonely ember biting at the gelid winter air. But it was just noticeable enough to gather his attention and hold it for a single split second. It had too much familiarity and the torrid contact made his spine rigid as if it were suddenly carved out of ice.

"You should have tried to hide instead of run, what if someone shoot you?" Lea was asking him, and he could only shrug through his haze.

"I think he did well running away from that damn organization." Darren said, his eyebrows knitted into a frown. Vale briefly wondered if the hate of MEGTAF was almost genetic, or if it was only the knowledge that they were still attacking his kind what made him angry.

The small bite of heat nipped at him again but it was centered in his mind now. It felt like a dull ache, the beginnings of a migraine but soft enough that it lacked the pain that came with it. The sensation left him confused and more than a little dazed as he blinked.

"Hey Vale, you okay? You spaced out for a while," Matt said concernedly, not daring to touch him as he took notice of his slightly glazed look.

Vale looked at him and seemed to hesitate. "Yes, I'm fine. Perfectly." The raven head nodded quite unconvinced, but let the matter drop. Vale squirmed under Darren's gaze.

It would be too much to ask that he ignored this as well. An issue he hadn't realized suddenly raised in his mind. "Darren, can I ask you something?" his friend nodded.

Vale glanced at his wings. "How do I put them back in?"

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Suggestions? Tell me, at least one word. Review!**

**H. E. B.**


	19. School again

**This chapter will feature a small time skip. Enjoy it guys!**

**_In school, you're taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you're given a test that teaches you a lesson._**

* * *

"It's too much to ask that you could let him sleep through while you get dressed and such?" Lea said as she and Matt got ready for the day, a half-asleep Vale sitting in one of the chairs.

"I try to be quiet. Not my fault he doesn't keep sleeping." Matt shrugged, shaking Vale a bit so he wouldn't nod off. "You should go back to sleep."

"That's all he ever does! Vale, you are very boring!" Lea said right at him, provoking a chuckle. "All day here, without nothing to do! Don't you get bored?"

"Lea hurry up." Matt told her as he waited for her. The green-eyed girl looked at her elder brother. "He just came here, it's like he's on holidays, and he doesn't take advantage of it!" she said incredulously.

"When will you go to school?" she then asked Vale, jerking him out of his musings.

"Hey hey hey hey, that's enough." Matt cut in, grabbing Lea's bag. "We have to go now if we want to make it on time."

"But why can't he go to school?" Lea said in confusion. "Yeah, he'll have a lot to catch up but I'm sure we can manage!"

At that moment Vale got tired of that and stood up. "Hello! I am right here!" he said waving his arms wildly. "And what's wrong with that?" he asked, before thinking it over. "Sure, math will be difficult…and the others subjects too, but I'm sure I can manage…if not you could help cheat a bit, huh?" Lea nodded at his question.

Vale had to be reinserted into society sooner or later, Matt knew, but he had to be sure. "You _want_ to go to school?"

His little brother didn't look very convinced, but still said "Well, yes."

_Those eyes…_

Matt smiled, already unable to refuse something that he knew would've happened eventually. "Maybe I can get Mom or Dad to make some calls…" he mumbled he finally got Lea to start moving.

All in all, the principal or headmaster or whatever it was called took some convincing, but Vale had to take a placement test, for which he spent the whole time studying with the help of Matt and Darren. He admitted he had cheated a bit (he had allowed the bond between Lea and him to return for brief moments) but it was worth it as he qualified for eight grade.

* * *

Kenny shook his head as he tried to concentrate on getting to school without being run over; he had been so distracted he had been nearly been made part of the asphalt at least three or four times already. All of the drivers had honked at him far longer than needed, one of them actually rolling down their window to spit at him and snarl that he should watch where he was going. He wasn't looking forward to a fifth but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes to the road. Instead, that strange boy that he met the other day kept circling around in his thoughts.

Kenny knew he lived nearby and he thought maybe he was getting closer to him as he walked. But he wasn't entirely sure and he didn't know if he was all too thrilled to find out. He was still angry with the thought that he had actually begged him to let them help him and look where he was now, he still had to answer tons of questions from Isabel's parents. Their presence had soothed the ache of being alone. They were there for him when he hadn't asked and it was a strange concept that she had come when he needed someone there the most.

But now, as he tried to stay mad at the other boy, Valentine—not a hard task by any means—he found it slipping towards something akin to pity.

That look that he had worn the last time he had seen him was burned into his mind.

The boy had truly looked lost.

So unlike Kenny's own classmates and the Kaiju he had seen on TV.

Kenny reached up and rubbed at his face, shaking his head and sighing loudly. By the gods, he could not even get the situation out of his head. He shook his head again, tugging on a bang violently until he yelped as he had the night before. He reveled in the pain for a split second, biting his tongue to draw a bit of reality back into his clouded mind. But he honestly didn't understand how he was supposed to deal with all of this. And with the way that things were going, he thought that his improvising was doing him pretty damn well.

A car honked loudly in front of him and he flipped them off without even thinking about it. He didn't bother to look as he continued walking, ignoring someone yelling about him being an ignorant kid. He needed to hurry and get to his classroom quickly before Mrs. Knowels, the dreaded Biology teacher. He was pretty sure that most of his classmates made absolutely sure to avoid her at all costs if she was the one behind the desk. And he needed something to get the stupid boy off his mind for a little while anyways…

Already inside the school and almost getting to the classroom, Kenny already fantasized about what he could do to pass the time in the class, and then froze as he stepped inside.

No.

No way.

Why would Darren Wakeman suddenly being all buddy-buddy with Isabel?

Now, Kenny Rogers wasn't what he considered a jealous man, but there was just something about when someone who was at least semi-attractive talked to Isabel Vasquez. He just can't help but make a fool of himself, even when he knows he's going overboard.

Maybe it was her silky brown hair, sharp hazel eyes, the way her lips tended to tilt upwards into a sneaky smirk when she was relaxed, or even the way her mouth flattened into a line when she was disappointed or serious. Or worried.

Guess which gaze she was sending his way now. No contest.

"Hey Kenny! You alright? Gonna stand and gawk all day, or ya wanna come over here?"

"Huh?" Oh great, he sounded just as startled as he knew he must look, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

"What's up Isabel?...and company."

She sent him the Look. "Kenny, manners. This is Darren Wakeman. Darren-Kenny. Kenny Rogers."

"Isabel, I'm perfectly capable of introducing myself." Kenny protested.

"Sure didn't seem like it short-stuff. You were off in la-la land a couple of minutes ago"

"No I wasn't! I was thinking about... uh... class!"

"Uhuh…_ sure_… But anyway, I got some interesting news from this cool guy here." she exclaimed slapping Wakeman's shoulder, making him wince.

"I'd asked this guy to keep me abreast of any new and interesting developments in our wonderful little zoo- new herbivores, carnivores, rule breakers and the like."

"Isabel, one of those things wasn't like the others..."

"Shut up Kenny- And anyway, we seem to have a shady character on our hands." She sang, eyes glittering with curiosity and interest.

"I didn't say that!" Wakeman weakly protested, obviously slightly overwhelmed by her exuberance. "I saaaiid, that there was a new kid, a bit awkward, and in need of some good friends. I hear you might already know him."

"Huh?"

* * *

Vale closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed. The halls teemed with conversation and the stream of bodies passing by on all sides was getting a bit hard to bear. The bright lights hurt his sensitive eyes –so accustomed to the dark and dreary - and the smells of the other kids was proving positively foul.

Ignoring the squeak of too-new sneakers on his feet or the feel of harsh denim against his legs, he kept fingering the edge of his dark burgundy hoodie in his nervousness, while his other hand kept a tight hold on a squashed semi-official looking paper.

Eyes flicking nervously from side to side, he hoped he was inconspicuous yet he still felt like a sore thumb, noticing the occasional stray eye, or hearing a voice whisper "New kid" or even more intimidating, "Fresh meat." He wanted to do well, prove his family proud. Make them glad they had accepted someone as damaged and freakish and weak as him back into their home. So, no matter what hardships he might face, he was determined to face the world he had unwillingly turned his back on so long ago, to get a second chance at least a semi-normal life.

But as he tried to zone out the others, to focus on the numbers of the classrooms, and the writing from the already half memorized schedule, he could still feel dark shadows ripping and tearing at his present self, at his awareness, threatening to send him back to that hellish darkness. Only the height of the ceilings and the soft illumination from the lights and windows prevented him having a panic attack from all of the chaos and movement around him. After being in darkness for so long, it felt so strange to be surrounded by all this noise, this movement, where before there had been little to none at all.

There, his class. Room 134, and homeroom. Thankfully, his locker was next door. Approaching it, he quickly figured out the locking mechanism and opened, only to belatedly notice a presence from behind, but was still too weak to react and felt a massive shove against his back, and he felt himself pushed into claustrophobic darkness.

Vale's breath caught in terror as shivers began to run through his spine and around his throat. He felt around with his hands and realized how small the space was.

The corners were so close together that the second glance he took seemed to bring the walls towards him for a moment. The dark color and the emptiness sent his head into a spiral, his stomach lurching at the sudden idea of the walls closing in on him. All he had to do was turn his head and a wall would slink that much closer. The chill of the air, so foreign and constant, seemed only to add to the sensation, making his mind toss endlessly with a pressure that shouldn't have existed. The walls swam in his vision, swirling and dancing in his mind, as the instinct to lash out started to rear its head. Vale breathed in deeply, lungs straining with the effort to draw in as much as he needed. The way the locker seemed to mess with his mind and flip his perception left little option. He breathed hard to draw out some of the sting in his chest where his ribs felt like they were cracking beneath an invisible pressure and turned away again. Vale felt little surprise when flames came out of his mouth.

He surveyed for anything that could possibly be considered out of place to prove a stream of normalcy for him, finding nothing and feeling his stomach twist violently once more. He closed his eyes briefly to keep the feeling at bay, trying to focus where his mind was threatening to spin again. His lungs grew tight and restrictive again, his chest feeling broken and his body suddenly feverish and itchy.

Someone was bound to realize he wasn't there right? Someone would surely let him out, right? If he could swallow the knot in his throat maybe he could attract help, right?

Lights were starting to form behind his eyes, spinning and dancing violently, and his mind was spinning, his insides going through another spasm. The cold was starting to feel like tiny bugs creeping across his skin, his body hyperaware of the tension, of their touch. He pictured a tight, bright blackness like the gloss of a raven's feather, seeping into his skin and wrapping around his organs. Momentarily panic slipped into him, breaking like a dam, and madness flickered in his mind.

The angles were swaying and dipping, toppling slowly inward to smother him. Vale's eyes snapped open, and he was suddenly aware that his hands hurt terribly for pounding on the door.

_'Someone come please please please I want out let me out let me out let me out let me out-' _the last three words began as a whisper but soon rose to a wail, and he kept pounding on the door, ignoring the pain because he couldn't stand being there, he wanted _out_.

He felt the door shifting under the pressure of the blows and the next thing he knew was that he was in light. The brown-eyed teen waited until his chest didn't feel as though it had been crushed before trying to stand.

Vale whipped his head around to find a woman's blurry face watching him in confused shock. His vision swam as he tried to gasp in air. Everything was spinning, causing the world around him to seem surreal.

"Boy, don't pass out." Vale jolted uncomfortably as fingers snapped right in front of his face. "Maybe you should sit down?"

He jerked away as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Get away from me!" he snapped, his voice shaking as badly as he was.

"Let me take you to the nurse, or tell me the phone number of your parents-" the woman started to say before Vale cut her off.

"I'm okay," he said quickly, breathlessly, trying to convince himself of it as well. "I really am okay." He tried to convince her, it wouldn't do good to attract attention that way on his first day. "It's just…someone pushed me inside the locker and….well, I am claustrophobic. It's nothing to worry about, really. I can go to classes." He said while started to walk.

Vale wobbled on his feet at the motion upset his already precarious sense of balance. Before he toppled over though, he felt the teacher grab his arm to steady him. The unexpected touch made him stiffen and flinch unconsciously, but if the woman noticed she at least had the tact not to mention it. Once he was no longer in danger of falling over, Vale gave her a self depreciating smile as she continued to support him as they started walking once more.

As they continued on in silence, Vale mentally berated himself for allowing himself to be caught off guard while he made a valiant effort to avoid going into a panic attack since she apparently wasn't going to let him go. He had grown to mostly accept and tolerate limited physical contact from people he knew in passing but he still felt extremely uncomfortable with extended close contact by anyone not in his immediate family. In fact, virtual strangers invading his personal bubble unexpectedly had a tendency to make him so anxious that he would freeze up. To avoid such incidents, he usually avoided large crowds and made an effort to always watch the hands and feet of those people nearest him so as not to be caught off guard when someone touched him, especially if they intended to physically restrain him in any way.

To have someone grab hold of him unexpectedly was enough to break the rigid control he kept on his emotions. With each second her hand remained on his arm, his ability to control the growing panic slipped just a little more. His breathing rate was the first thing affected, as he slowly began to hyperventilate until he realized what he was doing and immediately took it to the other extreme by trying to hold his breath. As he struggled to escape the feeling of being trapped he unconsciously began trying to put more distance between himself and the woman walking beside him; this of course was pretty much ineffective due to her firm grip on his upper arm.

The spell of terror was broken as soon as she let go of his arm, and Vale faintly heard her telling him to take his time before entering a door that –he now recognized- was of his classroom.

* * *

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**H. E. B.**


	20. A little challenge

**Thank you for the reviews, my dear readers, and here's another chapter for you to enjoy!**

_**"Being challenged in life is inevitable, being defeated is optional." **_

* * *

Vale lay against the wall, using deep breaths to try calm his whirring emotions. Breaking a locker in an attempt to escape it (he had been lucky he hadn't burnt it) wasn't what he would call the best way to start.

"I'm fine." He whispered to himself, because that's what he always was. Fine.

Vale breathed. _In, out. In, out._

He heard the teacher telling the others about him. As much as he didn't want to, he knew that was his clue to step inside. He tried to stay calm as he approached the door and opened it.

Vale was always sure that there was something novel about being the new kid. A new face, one of an almost infinite sea of new faces, like you could be a new person, confident, sporty, or cool and intelligent. He always sympathized when they weren't immediately popular, that one guy who came in halfway into the year so long ago? After the first week he had dissolved back into the multitude.

He could only hope that he ended up like that- being the new kid? Five seconds in and he was already wishing that he could disappear right out the door he came in.

Paranoia quickly set in- or he wished he could call it paranoia. It was more accurately the feeling of eyes leaving a physical touch on his skin, tangible in a way that made him shudder. The other kids made no attempt to hide the fact that their eyes were on him, how the front of the classroom's conversations dimmed as he passed, only to get louder once he had passed by.

There was only a single seat directly in the middle of the classroom, as much as he wanted a dark corner to hide in, the only place was directly in the middle right.

Just as he managed to pass by away from the whispers of "Orange" and "...Strange", shoulders hunching, inches from the relative safety of his seat, he heard the door softly close and soft footsteps come to the front of the classroom.

"Alright class. Everyone ready for a new day? Ready to practice some "Carpe Diem"?"

Many of the students let out a groan, obviously used to the spiel, causing her to laugh. "Oh don't whine, you know what I mean. But before we get back to the wonders of Latin- and Shakespeare everyone; you better have read the passages from 'Romeo and Juliet' or this chapter test won't be easy for you. I'm talking to you, that back corner of the room. You guys are like a black hole, everything goes in, and it must be sent to another dimension, because nothing comes out." A few laughs at that, directed at the same area.

She sent a bit of an embarrassed glance at Vale, it made him feel a bit relieved- that the pressure from all around him wasn't directed solely at him anymore. She continued." Like I was saying before that little tandem-Vocab word, everyone! We have a new student joining our class today."

And it was back on him again. Dang.

The woman scanned her list of students. "Now Duncan… do us all a favor and come up front and introduce yourself to the class, please."

Resisting the urge to correct her so she would use the name he was most comfortable with, he trudged up to the front of the classroom and he stood there awkwardly, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and he managed a strangled, "Valentine," mumbling out his last name.

From the students came a few huhs and whats, obviously not hearing him. Not that he wanted them to.

"A little louder please?"

"Ah… ah... I'm Valentine, Vale White."

"...anything else? Favorite color, hobbies?"

"...Not really."

She gave him another look, and he couldn't help that his cheeks managed to color, and she only sighed. Now Vale could hear another set of whispers 'White, he said?' '_That_ White?'

"Alright then, class, make sure to help Vale if he needs any help, and treat him as one of your own. Okay! On to those star-crossed lovers..."

"Hey Val," The voice made him look to his right in surprise. "Can't believe you didn't notice where you sat." Darren smiled at him.

"I don't like being stared at," Vale replied with a smile of his own, before noticing the ones who sat in front of him. "What are you two doing here?!"

"…we go to school here." Kenny answered, still not quite recovered from the unexpected surprise.

"I did say you knew him," Darren muttered distractedly as he took out his homework. Curious, Vale peered at it:

_'Allow me to start by saying that I consider this homework to be an horrific waste of time, as well as a terrible blow to the dignity of every student in this class. We aren't five years old, you'd think we should be writing poems or a novel by now, but NO. It's almost as if I haven't been forced to write countless mind-bogglingly pointless essays every class since fourth grade. Aditionally, I find the instruction that we all waste our time introducing ourselves and our family to be the whole point of this essay because you, Mrs. Daniels, were too lazy to come up with a properly ice-breaking game for the first day utterly ridiculous…'_

"You weren't in a good mood, were you?" Vale gave a low whistle.

"No surprises there." Isabel smirked. Vale raised an eyebrow, confused as to why the girl seemed to know that when he thought they had just met that day. Seeing his look, she explained. "Darren is legendary when it comes to his grades in all subjects involving words…except History for some reason…"

"Really?" Vale inquired as Kenny nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," Darren sighed. "Do you know the grades I have gotten thus far in English?"

Kenny beat him to it, the ghost of a smile on his features. "The binary code. Zero, one, one, zero, one, zero, zero, one…"

"Shut it." Darren growled.

The day passed quickly, with the four classmates chatting among listening to the teacher, Darren ignoring the questioning glances of Nick and company, who could be wondering why he wasn't sitting with them as usual.

* * *

"Hey lil' brother." Matt greeted him as he passed by, having just returned from P. E. if his short breaths were any indication. "How are you so far?"

"Pretty well," Vale answered. "I have one more class, luckily. What about you?"

"Just left P. E. and I'm heading home, Lea told me that she would wait for you. The new teacher's an asshole." He said bluntly. "How did you do in English, Darren?" the black-haired boy's voice took an amused quality. "Daydreamed again?"

"That's none of you business." The Kaiju answered in irritation, only for Isabel to shoot him a knowing glance.

Noticing he hadn't introduced everyone, Vale quickly said. "These are the ones I told you about, Isabel Vazques and Kenny Rogers." He said, the two in turn greeting his brother.

"Kenny Rogers, huh? Do you know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em?"

"No. Not even a little." Kenny said, completely deadpan. They chatted for a while before Matt left. It was then that Vale glanced at a clock. "Shoot, we're late to class!" Turning to Isabel, he quickly glanced at the paper in his hand, he rushed out, "Quick please. Where's the gym?", his face showing how he was really close to freaking out over the fact that he was going to be late, so early into his first week. Isabel just gave him a relaxed grin, "Don't worry, Vale, ya' got new kid's privilege. They give you like an extra 15 minutes, cuz you don't know your way around yet."

He really didn't want to get in trouble.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, plus Mr. Phelps is a softy, he usually lets the nerds sit on the sidelines if they want. That way the only ones the jocks can wail on is each other. Saves on trips to the nurse." and then, added like an afterthought, "and complaints from parents."

"Oh. I really should get going anyway... or I really will be late for gym. Newbie privilege or no."

"Ah, I guess I gotta get going too, at this rate I might not even make it with my school wide sprint."

On their way out of the room, Darren and Kenny said their goodbyes, echoed by Isabel who was about ready to start jogging so she'd get to her class at the other end of the school on time. When he asked her why she didn't leave earlier, she'd just brushed him off, saying she did the same thing every day.

In a blast of air she was gone, leaving a questioning Vale, and the amused Darren and Kenny. His only explanation was, "She's been scouted for the track team because of this." and he left it at that.

* * *

In the end, he was still late for gym. Rather than laughter and shenanigans as he expected, he entered the gym to pure silence, emphasized by the sound of the slamming door, and the tail end of his group's conversation that echoed in the airy room, making him cringe in reaction. He practically ran to the locker room to change, glad that he was with Darren and Kenny- but making plans in the future to lay claim to one of the bathroom stalls. Or maybe he could coerce them into being his human shields, to block him from view. He knew better than to let the other kids get a good look at his body.

So upon exiting the locker room he gazed around the airy gym, looking for the nearest group of kids that he could possibly blend into, only to come to the conclusion that that'd be practically impossible. What with there being a musclebound back facing him, giving a- from what he can tell from the faces of the other students- was giving a rather impressive death glare. That kind of put a damper on things. But there was something about him... something about him that seemed familiar. Maybe it was the head, a severe hairstyle and white hair, or even the way he had his underlings (and the students were definitely in the area of underlings) cowering like they were less than the dirt beneath his combat boot. But it rang a bell.

So, there he was, tip-toeing his way to the seat at the farthest end of the bleachers, followed by another quiet set of footsteps, and Kenny's less subtle ones. They were attempting to be inconspicuous about it, only to have the teacher round on him just as he was about to take a seat.

"You!" Vale stood up immediately as alarms went off in his head immediately, heart rocketing so suddenly that he jumped.

"Yes sir!"

"You've got some kind of nerve, coming in here," stopping to look at his watch," ten minutes late! I don't have time for any kind of slackers here. You come late, you get an immediate fail."

"But sir..."

"No buts! Now get out!"

"I'm new."

"I don't care about your excuses. Got held behind in class, twisted your ankle, broke your arm, your mommy died. Whatever. Leave."

He couldn't help but shrink slightly under the tirade, trying time and time again to get a word in, only to be practically dragged by the arm towards the door.

"Wait!" That was Darren. Thank the gods for him. "Sir, we were late as well." Gesturing to himself and Kenny, 'You'll have to fail us as well."

The muscle-head only seemed to respond with a grunt of vague irritation. "Alright then. You guys fail too." Then he seemed to get a good look at Kenny, before glancing down at the kid he had his grip around, face turning speculative. He grinned.

"Sir!" A few of the students had come to the front of the bleachers, trembling in their sneakers, trying their best to valiantly help Vale out.

"What'd does the little Chihuahua pack have to say, huh?"

"He really is new, sir. He just started two days ago!"

"So what? Today's my fist day, and you don't see me late, No! I was early, and I'm going to hold all of you to the same standards, Now, as of right now, you are all on probationary warning. A single infraction, a single toe out of line, shoe untied. Mistimed breathe, and you are out of here with a failing grade."

"Now, orange kid, get your ass over there, and make nice with the bleachers. And you." He turned to Darren and Kenny, "Have only postponed the inevitable. I don't accept failures. Or outliers."

Now by this point, Vale was stuck between confusion, a hint of fear, and overall anger. A feeling that despite himself he wanted nothing more than to grip the arrogant man by the hand so hard it cracked- so he'd never be able to handle a gun again. And better yet, be able to prevent him from ever aiming a weapon at his friends again.

Barnes wouldn't be here for any other reason than looking for him. There was nothing outstanding, other than Darren, to make MEGTAF send an agent here.

Darren looked once again at the man who was their so-called teacher, and couldn't help grinning. There was something so inherently hilarious about a MEGTAF agent undercovering as a gym teacher.

Vale watched as Kenny's face fell when he was told that they would be running as a warm-up and then playing dodge ball. "I am Superman, the sports are my kryptonite and I'm gonna die tonight." Kenny sighed, while Vale stifled a laugh.

"Running, huh? Last time I checked, that was the one thing I couldn't beat you at. Wanna show me if that's still true?" Darren practically purred. The tone confused Vale, who spent trying to figure out what did he mean in the minutes they lined up.

In the meantime, Kenny amused himself by hearing the whispered competence of insults that had erupted between Darren and Troy. They seemed to have bad blood between them for some reason. "Call boy in training", "morbidly obese cow", there was even one jab aiming at Vale, no doubt with Troy hoping he would hear, "eating disorder poster child". Kenny couldn't hear what Darren replied to that, but it couldn't be anything good if the gasps were anything to go by. That's how it went, with the boys insulting each other's tastes, attractiveness, sexual proclivities, intelligence, ancestry, social standing and probable place of residence in the afterlife.

"And me without my popcorn." Vale chuckled beside Kenny.

"The popcorn isn't the half of it." Kenny played along. "We should be selling tickets. If push comes to shove, though, my money's on Troy."

Vale laughed. "I doubt you'd find many takers. That's a sucker bet if I ever heard one."

There they were, Kenny to Vale's left, Darren to his right grinning at him with sharp teeth. That scent settled in the air, hot and full of challenge.

_Is he trying to provoke me?_

"Go!"

As Darren practically flew off, Vale settled beside Kenny as they started a pace between a jog and a run.

"What is he doing?" Kenny muttered as he moved to give room to Darren, who a few seconds later was completing his first lap. Looking at his face as he rushed past, Kenny noted. "He's challenging you or something."

"Darren knows about what I am," Vale replied, as the pieces clicked.

_Dominance play_, he thought, _showing he's willing to blow his cover to and lord himself over his peers... or just telling me he's the strongest here. If he's not stopped now, he will gain the upper hand in all power struggles until someone assets dominance directly over him._

When you go easy on the ones with just a bit of power, they give you more trouble than anybody else.

_I don't know if he considers me a threat or… _That scent again, and he could've sworn that he heard a quick 'Ha ha ha-ha ha," rushing past him as Darren flew past them.

"You do realize he's watching us, don't you?" Kenny whispered, nodding towards Barnes.

"I know," Vale growled, wondering why Darren had to choose this time for a race over all the others. He felt something foreign in the back of his mind and his body tensed, steeling itself in case of the fire that had existed in his bones days ago. It crept across his subconscious suddenly, starting to draw at his being once more as if claws were sinking into his skin and threatening to bring forth blood.

Except it wasn't fire this time. Nor it was painful, or ever remotely threatening.

Vale tried to focus on the heat of the air around him as the gentle brush of ice in the back of his mind grew slightly stronger. It had grown more persistent, as if he had just done something to amuse it and draw attention to himself. It lingered beneath his skin like a foreign infection and curled like smoke.

_Woosh!_ Third lap of his grey-eyed friend, accompanied with a mocking smile and the ice in his mind a bit stronger. Vale nearly snarled aloud when he realized. "Oh, he has some nerve…" he muttered, at the limits of his control.

"Kenny, do you mind…?" Vale asked, his eyes never leaving the blurred shape.

"Sure, sure," Kenny shrugged, a bit surprised that he had actually taken the time to ask him.

Vale smirked in answer. "Thank you." _If it's a challenge what he wants…then it's a challenge what he'll get!_ He thought viciously, and promptly sprinted away.

* * *

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**H. E. B.**


	21. Trouble in the gym

**Thank you for the reviews, my dear readers, and here's another chapter for you to enjoy!**

_**Friendships born on the field of athletic strife are the real gold of competition. Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.**_

* * *

His vision focused on the boy who had challenged him on the first place. Maybe he wanted to see how much he had changed over the last years, maybe he intended to assert dominance over him, but one thing was sure; Vale wasn't going give him the satisfaction of winning. For the first couple of seconds his strides lengthened, from a stunted run to a full blown sprint.

He was running. Always running.

Being on the move had kept him safe. If he was moving, nothing could catch him. If he was running, he couldn't be hurt.

As he ran he could feel himself gaining more speed than he'd ever attempted. Of course he'd be faster than he first realized and _he wasn't going to lose this race, godammit._ He was meant to fight, to win. So it was with a burning fire in his breast he rushed forward, the sides of the gyms blurred as he rushed by to a muddled tan, the bleachers a streak of blue.

He could only feel his soled feet pounding on the wooden floor, his breath in his throat, the sharp tingles from swallowing sparks with each swallow. He had never felt so one with himself, rather than focusing on suppression of his innate talents, for once he was allowing himself to be at least a little bit of his true self.

And God, it felt _wonderful._

He passed statues to his left and right, their legs and arms raised and chests huffing out strained breaths. He spun to miss a staggering person, a glance, with his eyes focusing- Troy, and he was in second, twenty feet or so away from Darren. He still couldn't feel any strain in his muscles, and he felt, no- something told him that it'd take much more than a single lap in order to tire him out.

He knew Darren could feel him closing in on him, but the other boy made no attempt to glance behind himself. Vale wasn't sure if it was because he was so confident in his victory, or if he didn't want to risk it, that looking back and seeing how close he was would spell the end for him. Either way, Vale surged forward until he was just behind, that he could smell Darren's scent, that he could place a hand on his shoulder.

Seconds from the goal. Three. He put more force into his calves, and he was practically jumping with each step. Two. His arms pumped harder at his sides, and he came up next Darren. One. One second from the end, their feet practically in the same motion, they stepped down.

The doors blew open.

In the milliseconds before the door opened and the race ended, they both looked towards the disturbance.

And suddenly the race was over. They both slowed to a stop, neither of them breathing heavily, only to slowly be overtaken by those who had lagged behind as they fell over the end of the track.

"You're faster than I thought." Darren conceded as he watched Kenny finally catching up with them.

Vale grinned.

Unnoticed but the other students Vale, and he was sure, Darren, could hear the soft and familiar pad of footsteps leading up to where they were sitting practically guarding the end of the lane. He didn't look up but he could see a soft smile that he was sending towards something - or rather someone, just out of his line of sight. But he could tell, if not from the look on his face, then from the warm feeling in the back of his mind.

"Hey, Lea." In return, he received a blinding smile and a punch in the arm, at exactly the same time as Darren. He winced jokingly and made a show of rubbing his arm.

"Geeze, Le, have you been working out?"

She just rolled her eyes and looked at Darren,blatantly ignoring him.

"Sooo,what was that all about?"

He poked her lightly in the arm, mindful of his sharper nails. Nothing.

"Hey, don't ignore me." It sounded a bit like a petulant whine to his ears.

She just responded by leaning him over and flicking him lightly in the forehead with a giggle.

"Oi, what was that for?"

"Oh, nothing. Just having a bit of fun at your expense."

Darren's light laugh, sounding slightly strained to his ears echoed out.

"But seriously, it's nothing. Just running some laps before he stupid gym-"

"You better not finish that sentence, maggot. One more word, and you'll be doing more than running laps. For the rest of the semester too." Seeing him about to protest how unfair that was, he added. "Any more lip and your little friends will be joining you too."

He turned to Lea, "Now, you, what are you doing here. I'm not teaching any dwarfs." He said disdainfully.

"Well, that's too bad. I'm sure you'd make a great Snow White. Only you need a few more dwarves ..." She added thoughtfully.

Barnes scoffed. Most children would be off-put with his behavior, he knew that, after spending the class amusedly watching their faces crumple in sad confusion as he sneered at their efforts in his class. This wasn't why he had originally decided to become a teacher, but...

Every job has its perks.

Which led to today's situation.

What's more, at nine years old, they had yet to encounter the harshness of the world, most of them. They still believed the best in people. But children bounced back. They were too young to truly understand rejection, so they could be shattered so many times before finally being broken.

This was the first one who had sassed at him.

"Reason. Or get out."

Lea raised her eyebrows. "I'm waiting for my brother so we can go home. Is that wrong?

"Who's your brother? Hippy boy, nerd one?"

She snorted. "Nah, the short one." Lea grinned, ignoring Vale's indignant glare.

"Is that so..."

"Yessir." And she gave him a mocking salute.

"Brat. I can't threaten you with bad grades. But nothing is stopping me from making you do sit reps. Any more lip and you'll be joining the other trouble makers, you hear me?"

He didn't wait to hear her response, which of course ended up being a rebellious eye roll, and a "Whatever."

He could hear him yelling at some of the slower people, who were only just now managing to cross the finish line, but even that couldn't drown out Lea's "Who stuck a stick up his butt?"

Anyone in hearing distance instantly snorted, even a couple of goody two shoes who couldn't help but look upon them, with disapproval, were only barely managing to hide their grins. It seems even the teachers pets couldn't stand him either.

Barnes seemed to hear it, quickly turning around, only to get a winning smile among the comments of the other students.

"Jerk."

"But seriously, rather than a stick, that guy's more likely to have a laser rifle stuck up there. He's the one-"

"Alright! That's enough chit-chat! All my lackeys, get your butts on the floor. Everyone else, and that means you, shorty-the bleachers. Move out!"

They quickly separated the gym, with half the class on one side, and the rest on the other. Either way, he was flanked on one side by Kenny, and Darren, with all of the jocks on the other side. He wasn't surprised, but he guessed that it was the work of Troy. Troy had been throwing him angry glares for the short period of time between the start of the match and their little pass-by during the run. It was obvious by the angry flush on his cheeks that he resented being shown up in front of his peers. Well, that sucked for him. Vale had no intention of losing the game, and coupled with the fact that Darren was also on his team, there was no way he was going to lose.

"Dang, Vale. That was really freakin' awesome. I mean, you guys were practically blurs!" Kenny told them. He was energetic and excited, more than happy to be part of the group," I mean, with both of you guys on our team now, there's no way we're going to lose. They're gonna get creamed!"

This, however, seemed more than a little vindictive, and was punctuated by one fist smashing into his other's palm.

Seeing Vale's look, he continued. "Well, I mean, the teams are never fair. Even when we had our old teacher, whenever we were forced to play dodge ball, and that wasn't often." he assured," The teams always ended up like this. Us weaklings on one side, and the football freaks on the other." He snorted.

"More than often we'd be leaving with the ball's brand stamped into our foreheads. But, I mean hey we'd get at least one of them... kind of"

"Kind of?"

"Well. I mean, sometimes they'd throw the ball a little too hard and then we'd get a player back and they'd be sent out of the game. Not that it mattered much. Revenge usually followed after."

"Right."

Vale didn't envy Kenny and the other kids. Obviously there was some kind of favoritism going on regarding the sporty kids. There was no one keeping an eye out for the underdogs. So far, it seemed that the adults were useless and he didn't have much hope for that changing in the future. Especially since Barnes had it out for him.

He could see him out of the corner of his eye, escorting Lea to the bleachers with a heavy glare- she'd been sneaking towards the kids, hoping to get in on the game with them. So he didn't hear Troy's harsh words from across the line of dodge balls bisecting the gym.

"What's with the kid? You into kinder-gardeners now? Huh, freak?"

Darren was obviously caught off guard- and Vale was no different.

He looked a bit horrified. "What the hell?!"

"I mean, why the hell would a girl be here otherwise, huh? No one's into emos, you know."

Darren grit his teeth, "Shut the hell up, Troy. Before I make you."

Vale was seconds from leaping across the border and punching his teeth out.

In the meanwhile, Barnes returned, "Alright. On my mark, One. Two. Three." and he blew his whistle.

In the first five seconds, Darren had beaten him to the punch. One second in, he had the ball in his hand. Next two were spent aiming at his target. Last two was his arm in motion and Troy falling back, clutching his face.

The whistle blew again, this time with an angry Barnes coming to the center of the court.

"What the hell was that?!" he roared getting in Darren's face.

Troy got unsteadily to his feet, clutching his steadily bleeding nose. "I t'k he broke my n'se."

Barnes quickly turned towards the kid removing his hand, uncaring of the blood and scrutinized the cartilage. "Huh, so he did."

Then he wiped the blood off his hand onto Troy's shirt, and looked it up and down. "Well, off to the nurses office with you, I d you-" he said, turning to Darren," are out of the game. No fouls on my court." he suddenly grinned. "And, as punishment for his actions," he said louder," you lose five more players.

"You. You. You. You. You." He pointed at kids as he spoke, and he seemed to be going for the more athletic players that they had, which was few. When he had finished they had less than 10 people on their side of the field.

_'You already had your revenge…you should have let me do it…'_ Vale thought.

* * *

Lea watched Darren walk ashamedly towards her on the bleachers, shoulders slightly hunched. His face told a different story, his eyes were still murderous, and the way his fists were clenching and relaxing his hands definitely showed that he held a lot of tension. She couldn't help but be slightly disappointed in him, however.

"What the heck, Darren? Why'd you punch him?"

He just looked away while rubbing the back of his head, mumbling something unintelligible.

She just put her hands on her hips and looked harder, "What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing."

"It was hardly nothing, I haven't seen you this pissed off in a long time. Now, tell me what happened?

"...He was being a jerk."

"Well, duh, Darren. He's Troy, he's always a jerk. Normally you'd know better than to risk getting yourself in trouble for the sake of your pride."

"Oh please, you didn't hear him. Besides, if I hadn't done that your brother would." Darren answered as he looked at the middle White child, whose expression unknowingly mirrored Darren's own. He watched in interest as Vale plummeted them. He didn't have to be a genius to realize Vale was probably imagining being beating up Troy instead.

"I think he's being rather reasonable about this whole situation." Darren mused

"Why do you think so?" Lea asked, confused.

"They're still breathing, aren't they?"

* * *

Being one of the few left, Kenny was a bit surprised that he'd lasted this long. Fortunately for him, the fair-haired boy was providing to be a great distraction for the jocks of the other team. They'd be focused on eliminating the threat, rather than trying to take down the weaker, punier ones. The members of the other team aimed at Vale, who stood utterly still, allowing the others to inch closer.

_"Aren't we clever, already coaxing your prey from hiding…"_ Kenny thought, but this was quickly forgotten as he watched his classmate dodging and then throwing balls at a speed that was absolutely insane, the reminder about what the boy was hitting him hard.

He was not human.

He could not be human.

Right?

He looked, in this moment, with his eyes glowing and shadowed, as if he had no trace of humanity left inside of him. He looked as if he were a shell of a person with a foreign entity harboring his body.

That by any means, could not be considered even slightly human and definitely not normal. There was absolutely no way that was normal.

But then he turned away from the shattered remains of the opponent, and sent such a gleeful smile towards his sister on the sidelines. Maybe it was tinged a little blood thirsty. Maybe there was a bit more tooth than smile; either way, he could see the almost innocent happiness that came from having fun.

Vale caught him staring, and turned that grin on him, "Having fun yet?"

He could only laugh a bit hysterically and attempt to dodge another attempt on his life. He shook his head, "No. Not quite yet."

He attempted to grab a ball and had to abort at the last minute to avoid an out.

Vale casually grabbed a ball from mid-air, making one kid leave the field, before using the commandeered weapon to pummel someone who had been aiming at him in the gut.

Damn. That was really cool.

* * *

**Here's another 'test of intelligence':**

**9-7-14-15-18-1-14-3-5 9-19 2-12-9-19-19. 2-21-20 2-12-9-19-19 9-19 2-15-18-9-14-7.**

**Suggestions about pairings? Like it? Hate it? Suggestions? Tell me, at least one word. Review!**

**H. E. B.**


	22. Thicker than blood

**Hello guys, sorry about not updating. I have been having rough times. You see, my parents separated the 11th and I wasn't in the mood to write for a few days. But I'm back! Writing is one of my escapes from reality and there's no way I'm going to lose that. I wanted to thank you, guys, for sticking with me, reading my story. It really means a lot to me. Before I started writing this series, I was (and still am) really hesitating on showing anything I write, but you're helping. I don't know why I am sharing this with people I will probably never meet, but I just wanted you to know.**

**Okay, I am better now *smiles* onto the disclaimer and then the chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: "Hello? _Hello?_ Well, if you're reading this, chances are you've come to read I Promise by The Hazel-eyed Bookworm. Before you begin reading this chapter, however, there's a statement from the author I'm supposed to read to you: "I, H. E. B., do not own Firebreather or the videogame referenced in this chapter.' Well, that's really it. Enjoy!"**

_**"One of the greatest titles in the world is parent, and one of the biggest blessings in the world is to have parents to call mom and dad."**_

* * *

Vale rolled his eyes as he listened to Barnes telling Darren off. He had been made to stay after class, and the fact that Barnes hadn't even taken Darren aside meant Vale was able to hear the whole one-sided conversation.

"Not another word, young man," his teacher said, suddenly a frightening calm. "Give me your parents' phone numbers. I will call them immediately and inform them of your insubordination in my class, and invite them to join you and I in the principal's office, where, rest assured, you and your family will be told of your expulsion. Don't even bother coming to school tomorrow," he sneered.

Vale was deathly silent, widened eyes taking the scene before him. Darren hadn't done anything that guaranteed a call to his guardian in all the while Vale knew him.

"_Right now_, Wakeman," Barnes eyes flashed dangerously. Vale caught himself halfway off his seat. He didn't like the way Darren's shoulders had slumped a bit, almost unnoticeably.

"My parents -" Darren started, but the man before him was beyond reason.

The gym teacher darted forth and gripped the boy's arm, pulling him towards the door. He stopped just before exiting it. "I'll give you one last time, boy. _What are their cell phone numbers?"_

"They're dead," Vale answered for him, a growl rising from his chest. "They're dead. You can't phone them. Leave him alone – he lost control! Just… leave him alone."

The teacher paused. "Is this true?" he asked Darren.

Said boy nodded, eyes giving a slight glance to his blond friend, a thank you.

Silence enveloped the room once more.

"Do you have any other family?" the teacher asked, and, for once, he seemed slightly unsure of himself. Vale was glad to see it happen – glad to see that he could wipe the smugness from his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Darren said, and he seemed to have gotten better. "I live with my uncle, Rîus."

The teacher's jaw clenched, and he flushed. "So you think because you're an orphan you can get away with whatever you like, Wakeman? Well, your uncle may be fine with spoiling you and bowing down to whatever his _dear, poor orphaned nephew_ wants, but _I _will do no such thing! You're coming with me to the principal's office, right this instant." And he jerked open the door, shoving Darren outside.

The door slammed shut, reverberating in its frame.

Vale and Kenny stared in shock at where their classmate and teacher had disappeared from.

Kenny's shock didn't dissipate quickly, but Valentine's did.

He…He was _livid_.

"I don't believe it…" he whispered, staring at the ground. "_I don't believe it!"_ his voice was a low, guttural noise that rose from his chest and rumbled through the air. "He has no right…"

Kenny tried to keep his expression stony and still, which didn't do much. He had taken a step back. He didn't feel safe. He tried not to think about the fact that Vale's breath was more visible than it should have –the last thing he needed was for him to lose control.

"C'mon, I wanna listen," Vale said as he walked past Kenny, into the hallway.

"Wait, he's not supposed to break bones while playing dodgeball!" Even if he was at the moment currently afraid, the words came unbidden from his mouth. Kenny looked around for anyone who may have followed. "Come on, if you had done something like that would be just asking for exposure!" Kenny decided he'd be the voice of reason in Isabel's absence. He turned around and found that Vale was nowhere to be seen. It looked like Vale hadn't even stopped to listen to him.

Thinking better about it, it wouldn't be wise to reprehend the actions of Darren with Vale in such a state. Reluctantly walking behind, he finally reached the blond.

"Valentine." Kenny watched as his friend slowly lost that glint in his eyes.

"What is it, Kenny?" Vale looked at him. Even though he had a smile on his face, it just… wasn't right.

"You think they will really expel him?" Kenny asked, his pulse beating far more quickly than he'd have liked. Vale seemed to have read his thoughts, because his overall posture softened, finally.

"I don't think so. Troy could've killed my sister and they just suspended him for a few days. I don't think they'd do anything of the sort." Vale grumbled. "Dûzangrann."

"What did you say?" Kenny frowned.

"Dûza-" Vale shook his head, stopping himself mid snap. "Go already. I'm gonna wait for Darren." He growled slightly and shook his head.

* * *

He waited until Barnes let Darren leave, and then they went looking for Lea. Vale had been able to gather in the time between finding his sister and head home, that Darren wouldn't be expelled or anything like that. The principal had chalked it up as Barnes been exaggerating.

Watching him through the corner of his eyes, Vale didn't like how quiet Darren was. _He had absolutely no right… _he thought again.

"Are you okay?" he asked the other boy, despite knowing he wasn't.

Darren was furious. His mouth felt dry and his head was filled with a thousand different thoughts. Shock, disgust, confusion, white-hot fury. Swallowing the insults and screams threatening to break through, Darren forced himself to stay casual. It was obvious that man was scum. He should have expected something like this. Maybe not quite so soon or so brazenly hurtful…but something like this.

"Don't worry about it, Vale. That guy's a jerk, there's no denying it…" he started, only to be interrupted by Lea.

"I'm glad I don't have him as my teacher… I think Matt told me that one of his friends 'accidentally' threw a ball at him…maybe that's why he was so angry…" she said thoughtfully.

A corner of the brown-haired boy's mouth twitched upwards.

"Changing the subject…we have to get you a birthday present!" Lea suddenly spoke to her brother, eyes wide in realization. Vale bit his lip, hoping Lea wasn't going to compensate for two birthdays missed. "Not a book, of course…" she muttered. "You already have too many…"

Sparing a glance at his friend, Vale whined, "Why not?"

The other corner twitched.

"What about an instrument? You haven't touched the piano in the spare room since forever…okay it doesn't sound good, but still…" Lea continued.

"You don't have to get me anything…" seeing Darren more attentive, and about to open his mouth, Vale continued, "But if you do there's this book I've been _dying_ to get my hands on…"

A full smile broke across Darren's face.

_That's better._

"Nerds, I'm walking with nerds." Lea bemoaned to the skies.

"Hey," Darren protested, the grin still on his face, "Watch who you're calling that."

"Don't worry." Lea told him dryly. "We would never mistake you for someone smart."

* * *

As soon as they arrived home, Matt had been bombarded with a fuming Vale ranting about what had happened in the gym. Needless to say, their parents were not amused either. After a few minutes of having to endure his mother fuming in a similar way Vale had, Matt had found himself inside an interrogation about whether or not his class had been something like that.

"There was no danger involved except to our sanity." Matt said in an attempt to calm his mother down. "That being said, Jake threw a ball right at his face and he was insufferable for the remainder of the class."

"Oh God, that man," Vale huffed in annoyance. "I don't know why that man chose to become a teacher. And you," he turned to Matt, who adopted a puzzled expression. "You should have told me who our new teacher was. That guy works for MEGTAF and you know it!"

"I-I didn't know." Matt stammered, mentally telling his brother that he had only seen that man once. "But why would he be here?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Marie asked while readying herself to go to work. The implications were as clear as crystal, and Matt belatedly recognized the stupidity of his question. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Vale looked at his adopted mother in confusion before lowering his gaze to the plate in front of him. "I don't want to eat anymore." He tried to convince her, only to be met with a stern gaze.

"Don't worry Mom, we will keep sure he eats it all." Both Matt and Lea assured her, making Vale groan.

* * *

_-Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the harde…-_

"Vale, there's more to do in your free time than reading." Matt told him, looking up from his computer. "It's called fun."

Vale blinked twice, detaching himself from the book he was reading, sighing a bit. He just wouldn't accept it, would he? "I like to read. What's wrong with that?" the other looked up from his book to glance at his older brother.

And stared. The black haired boy seemed quite on edge for someone just lazing in the computer.

"What game are you playing?" Vale asked with a frown. He could hear Matt's quick heartbeats from there and he seemed quite tense. A small smirk made its way across his face as he wondered the kind of game that would manage to put his older brother in such a state.

"You don't know how much I regret buying this game." Matt sighed. "I swear I won't be able to sleep. Sonuva…" Matt muttered, and Vale heard frantic clicking.

"Something wrong, big brother?" Vale asked distractedly, absentmindedly flipping a page from his book and quietly enjoying the faces Matt made.

"It's Chica, I can't find Chica, I don't-"

**"SKREEEEEEE!"**

Both Vale and Matt immediately jumped. "What the fu-?!" Vale already had jumped off the bed.

"Sorry, sorry, it's the game…" Matt hurriedly said, huffing. "Damned chicken got me. Wanna play?"

"That screech sounded like a banshee's war cry. Yeah, why not?"

Both brothers smiled at Matt moved a bit to make room for the blond. In light of all that happened, Vale would definitely hesitate to say that he was happy, but if there was an emotion a few steps below that…he was definitely there. His heart was a bit lighter. Hopeful.

* * *

**I know, I know, a filler, but as I said, I'm sorry.**

**An exclusive spoiler if you can guess what was the videogame!**

**H. E. B.**


	23. Gift

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

_**"Every gift from a friend is a wish for your happiness."**_

* * *

Walking to school, Vale saw two dead dogs in the middle of the streets. They had their tongues out and eyes wide open. That would make them the sixth and seventh of the week. And countless people missing. Not even the cats were safe.

But what impacted him most is that some people behaved naturally in response to that. Vale saw a man coming out of his house with a plastic bag, shoving one of the dogs inside helped with a stick, turning around and leaving the animal in the trashcan. Would that dog be his? It was a golden retriever, that much he could see. Vale walked the short distance to school fearing what he could find rounding a corner. He didn't consider himself a coward, but strange things were happening.

His dad would say that it's natural to feel uncomfortable with changes within your living area. A lot of people were moving to the neighborhood, or it was him the new one?

But anyway, it was becoming normal, seeing new faces. It was becoming natural to see strangers.

Seeing new faces, waking up on his bed (which still was an 'am I at home or in Hell' game) watching about another disappearance at the news, practicing the vision Darren taught him.

It was becoming routine.

Vale recalled Darren telling him about some...side effects he had called them, if you stayed with that vision for long, but so far he hadn't felt any of it.

_Once, under Julian's vigilance, he had tried to interact with Lea's magic, and it was as luminous as Darren had described it to him, and it was –in blunt terms- amazing. He remembered when he had tried it, it had been a disheartening experience to find out at first that he couldn't do it –not with the ease Darren had-. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be._

_And…there._

_It was something, a little not-all-there something, slipping from his grasp like a dream only half remembered, and despite knowing he couldn't afford to be discovered he soon found himself desperately clutching at the straws. It was woefully little, but it was enough. Opening his eyes and letting go of the connection, he swayed a tad. Julian forced a glass of orange juice down hs throat right away, because he actually appeared as if he was slightly drunk._

_"So…did it work?" Julian asked, eyeing his son worriedly._

_Vale dipped his chin in response, giggling quietly. "You have no idea… It was like…like not being real. It feels like…" he trailed off as he tried to explain the unique feeling. "It felt like….felt like the word escapism. Like walking on air. I-I dunno how to describe it. It was not being real, not being there, and at the same time… I don't know." He trailed off, looking longingly at the distance. If this was what Lea felt when she tried to contact him, then he understood why she wanted to so badly._

_Didn't approve, but understood._

The next two weeks passed without incident, unless you count Troy with a broken nose and a growing animosity between Barnes and –apparently- the whole student body.

Four days since he started school, his sister had taken to hang out with them in recess. The third day, much to the relief of the others, she finally identified herself. Vale didn't question his sister's odd habits, neither why she was always with them and not with someone of her own class.

Vale knew that, by most kids' standards, Lea was a strange kid. Her hair would be completely wild or tied into different buns. Her clothes –casual, pants and shirts that Vale suspected had picked from them- were perpetually dotted with paint and smeared with either charcoal or Oreo dust. They'd never seen her without a sketchbook. In fact, Kenny was sure she kept several on her person, hidden to use at any given time.

Isabel and Lea liked to prattle on about Kaiju, with Lea quickly filling her sketchbook with images of the frightening creatures of all shapes and sizes. Lea's eyes always took the same green hue Vale's did when she discussed those things, her voice going odd and wispy like fog. It made Vale feel cold, since how could she draw those things with so deadly accuracy if she hadn't seen them somewhere?

Deep down, Vale knew she had seen them; in her mind, when his control over their bond slipped away. He always wanted to keep the door between them tightly shut.

He knew why she would try to reach for him, knew what it felt like. But still…still…

It worried him, that blurring of the lines between himself and her.

Vale wished he could stop it, but that was something he couldn't control.

They were becoming closer, and the barriers were breaking. Sometimes she heard his thoughts, and he heard hers. She still didn't see his dreams, but he saw hers.

It was happening more and more frequently.

Maybe it was selfish, but Vale wished his thoughts were fully his own again, and hers were fully hers… or, at least, that he could control better the ebb and flow of her thoughts from his own. He was used to being his own person. He enjoyed the luxury of being his own separate, individual self.

But the lines were blurring. The boundary that separated him from her was fading. Vale could feel it, their bond almost as strong as it was when they were very young and had no idea how odd it was to run around in each other's dreams. Lea still saw the two of them as the same. She called Vale her other half to this day.

Those were his thoughts as he found himself pushed out of his daydream. Biology had not always been a touchy subject for Vale but today's lesson was pushing it. The class had been learning human biology from the start of the term. About a week into it, Vale had discovered just how different he really was. At first he was under the impression that the few changes to his appearance were just add-ons to this human body, but he was slowly understanding that this was not the case. His bone, muscle, and nervous system were different. His metabolism abnormal. His instincts feral. Fire no longer hurt if he didn't have an open wound. Parts of him were overly sensitive. His nails retracted. It was proof that his body had not stopped changing. He was becoming less and less human.

To his right, Isabel writing away in a notebook, occasionally giving him glances. To his left, a bored-out-of-his-mind Kenny doodled idly.

Resting his head on his hand, Vale sighed softly, wondering when the lesson would end. Determined not to hear the teacher, he tried to find a thought interesting enough for him to shift focus.

The lesson with Darren immediately came to mind, and with that the reminder that he wasn't following his instructions. But that wasn't what caught his attention.

Staring at his notebook, Vale thought about the process he had used before. He had closed his eyes, but apparently it didn't work. So should he do the same and hope for the best, or try something different?

It took him some time, but eventually he found that vision again, only it was much, much expanded. He could see faint glows, almost invisible, all around him.

Against what Darren told him, he didn't open his eyes so soon, and he soon felt much better than he even had with Lea. Oh, it's better than he'd imagined, better better _better_. So what if he experienced 'side effects' for being in contact with his magic's center for too long? This was incredible!

Then he noticed his temperature starting to change. His body was tingling. He felt his intense heat rushing down...

He abruptly noticed what was going to happen and crossed his legs, holding back a moan. _So those were the side effects...who would have thought that interacting with your magic would cause that..._ he thought dazedly as the heat receded and he resolved to try just a few more minutes. Trying to 'see' what was behind him, he noticed a bit of cold. It was chill enough to be identifiable, besides there was only a soft, itsy-bitsy trickle, as if someone were trying to tickle him but not really managing to do it. The tickle and the sensory cues were a dead giveaway that something wasn't like the others.

…Would he be able to interact with it the same way he had with Lea's?

Curious to find out, he tugged on the energy. However, something went horribly wrong. Instead of making the trickle faster or stronger, there was a sudden screech – there was no other word for it – and he burnt and froze at the same time. He convulsed and slipped out of his seat, opening his eyes and breaking the connection.

Isabel had been in a half-dazed trance before her seatmate collapsing brought her to her senses. But that wasn't what made her breath caught in her throat. When he opened his eyes, a second before he fell...his pupils were..._gone_...as were the whites of his eyes. It was as if the irises had expanded and filled the entire eye with first a yellowish green hue, then the normal brown, and then returned to normal. Then, he fell.

Mrs. Salisbury was upon him in a heartbeat. ''Child, look at me! Look at me!''

Vale tried to focus on her, but his muscles kept twitching and he couldn't quite manage to think straight. If his magic had been slow and limpid before, now it churned and bubbled and hissed, sloshing and overflowing and messing with his body. After a while, the agitation lessened.

Gulping down bile, he caught Mrs. Salisbury's panicked gaze. ''I… I feel better now…'' His voice sounded weak and raspy even to him.

She didn't relax. ''Are you ill, Valentine? Do you need help? Tell me!''

He shook his head slightly, the world going out of focus again for a moment. ''No… No, I'm fine now.''

"Happy birthday," was the first thing Vale heard when the school nurse finally let him go. The blond looked over to the side and saw Darren walking towards him, an apologetic smile on his face. "That was you, wasn't it?" he asked with a grimace. "I felt something probing my mind in a strange way and…well, defended myself."

Vale blinked, impressed with the amount of power Darren had displayed. He realized his uncle must have teaching him. "Have I ever told you how glad am I that we're not enemies?"

"No, but it's nice to hear it." The brunet said, before rummaging inside his bag and pulling out a package wrapped in paper red and white. Vale eyed it curiously,

"So, you were trying the technique I taught you?" Darren asked, holding the package out of reach. Vale forced his eyes to go back to the other boy.

"Yeah, I have been trying it but it's kinda difficult." Vale admitted as they walked to their next lesson.

"I taught you that less than two months ago. You couldn't have forgotten so soon." Darren said with a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

"Well, not everyone has a great memory like you."

"I occasionally refresh my memory; I don't rely on a week of perusal and hope for the best like the most part of the students here. I swear most humans are becoming lazier and lazier."

Vale frowned. "I'm not 'most humans'. That's pretty bad of you to lump all of us into one category. You don't see me calling Kaiju a bunch of mangy, bloodthirsty monsters, do you?"

Darren raised his large, dark eyebrows in amusement. "Mrrowww...kitty's got claws, doesn't he?"

"Why are you such a dick?"

"Why are you so sensitive?"

"Try being fine after you were…electrocuted." Vale tried to explain what he felt. The word he chose wasn't close, but it would have to do. He then extended his hand towards the package. "C'mon, give it to me."

Darren snorted. "I came here to see if you were okay, not to give you your present yet." He rolled his eyes at his friend's look. "Have you done something with your family yet?"

"Yeah, we stayed till midnight and then we started celebrating." Vale smiled.

The family had celebrated 'to not lose even one minute'. They had eaten pizza just like Vale liked, with bacon and corn, to his siblings' disgust, who catalogued him as the only person in the world that liked to eat 'that yellow crap' in a pizza. He had ended up munching on the bacon, but still…

While telling the Kaiju what had happened a few hours prior, Vale's gaze continually went over the present that his friend refused to give. He was beyond curious about what it was.

"Oh my God, Valen… First let me know how you are doing. And talk with me for a while, don't be so selfish."

Vale drew the most manipulative smile he could muster and extended his hands towards the present. "Oh _please_…"

"You're so materialistic…" Darren laughed, finally giving in. Finally the present was on his hands. He started to open in without breaking the envelope, which Darren immediately corrected.

"C'mon, shred it. It brings good luck." Vale eyed him in disbelief. "Okay I'm not superstitious but what's the fun in leaving the paper intact?"

Three seconds later Vale was tearing the paper to shreds, to Darren's amusement. The present turned out to be a simple leather-covered notebook. Seeing Vale's incredulous look, Darren elaborated. "You sometimes get distracted and start writing in your notebook…as Miss Brown noticed yesterday…"

"Don't remind me."

"…So I thought to give you something you could write on."

Vale smiled at him. "Thanks a lot Darren."

The ring of the bell shook them out of their talking.

"Okay, we have History next…we better go."

* * *

It crawled out in the darkest point of night, out of the deep dark; movements quick and jittery against the starry moonlit sky. It walked on all fours even though it was built bipedal, able to walk on two legs. Despite the limitation, its pace was rapid and its awkward gait didn't seem to slow it in any way. It limped quickly to from the small crack in the ground, scuttling until it rested unseen underneath a dense bush. Stopping, it stood up fully.

It was no more than a foot in height, a dull green, shelled like an armadillo save its tail, which extended over half its body length behind it. Its eyes were hooded, with a half-lidded stare, the membrane sliding with a shiver-inducing click as it moistened its eyes. It hissed quietly tasting the air with its tongue, and It paused taking in its surroundings before it scurrying off for the next cover.

It was quickly followed by much smaller, and to It, less intelligent brothers and sisters. They virtually streamed out of the crack, moving to blanket the ground of what turned out to be a human playground. It was much different from the moist and rocky home that they had left behind, hard terrain traded for soft grass and wood mulch.

The creature knew of their existence, having seen similar things before, with the human nestlings running about and climbing observed closely by their parents, for what It could only assume it was training of some kind; maybe for the use of those loud-burny-things that humans always pointed at Its benevolent masters?

Either way, with the constant foot traffic, especially with the young being so often observed, the park quickly proved an unworthy nesting place by any but the smallest and quickest of their kind. It didn't last a day before one of the human nestlings had grabbed It in her grubby and soft talons. Sensing only a minor threat, It treated her to a minor bite. Its saliva is a weapon to most other animals on its own, considering the makeup.

Either way, the majority of their group quickly dispersed throughout their new territory, gaining information and scent trails for individuals and families. It, the largest and the best, could obviously have a much larger territory than the rest- all It needed in order to maintain its strength and do Its master's bidding.

The Gomorradon ruler felt the utmost pride at being able to serve Its master so well. Even Its home showed how intelligent and stealthy It is. It knew that the best place to serve Its scavenger diet, a place with a lot of food and a lot of cover was the best place. Some place dank and dark that felt cool on Its scales, and made insects and small animals like the squirmy-tail-creatures flourish. It had decided on one of those caves in the building where all of the older-not-nestlings-but-still-young-ones went. There was hard ground that was perfect for scratching and curling up on, and a warm creature that nested in the other corner. Occasionally one of the human creatures came and fed it offerings, or pet it, and in return it got warmer or cooler. It wondered if it would listen to It, too?

But either way, the food was plentiful and It could watch for Its master's prey while It feasted. It knew that this was where the predator-prey-prince was hiding. It could trace it back to several Others, with two or so having the greatest concentration. They didn't act the same as their smell says. They were too nice to those beneath them, it brought shame to them. It knew it was low, and it took pride in serving, in knowing it was nothing, less than nothing. How could they take pride if they did not know their place?

The Master met Its needs, made it feel special in Its nothingness. Not like Master's Master.

The Master's master was always so intimidating, the smell so scary, it made It want to cower in fear and grovel at More-Master's feet. The presence called for Its servitude, for It to groom, to bring offerings. But It only got growled at by More Master, and It was kicked aside.

Just-Master, oh so intimidating as well (but not as much) gave It purpose, a mission, or as master said, a 'Quest"!

Said quest was almost complete. Master would be so pleased.

* * *

**Was the Gomorradon's POV easy to understand? ...were you offended by the not-so-subtle innuendo?**

**I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	24. Alone together

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

_**"They tell you to be yourself, then they judge you."**_

* * *

"Everyone pair up in two or three!" The voice of the teacher distracted her from her drawing, making Lea sigh irritably before looking up to the math problem they were supposed to do in groups.

_"Jesus, take the wheel_." She thought, before giving a hopeful glance to the seat two rows back, only to sigh to herself when she saw that Kiara already had a partner.

Lea had grown more and more alienated from the world as the days rolled by. The more she thought about what her brother might have suffered, the more ideas she got about its true nature – but, oddly, the realization only made her more and more fascinated. It was a morbid fascination and an impossibly irrational one, but Lea was unable to let go of the things she could sometimes see, like a hazy fevered dream.

Idly, she wondered if Kiara would still talk to her, though their relationship had been deeply strained. It wasn't her in particular who suffered because of the unexpected changes in her perception of the world. Lea lost touch with all the people whom she had already had trouble calling friends, and shied away from the classmates. When the night descended, she spent hours staring into the darkness of the room, and her dreams were full of strange, menacing grey shapes which she had to fight for what seemed like ages before earning a single glimpse of her brother – and then she immediately woke up in cold sweat and more tired than the night before. It had been hard to avoid being asocial, it had been even harder to fight this ridiculous variation of survivor's guilt which manifested even though nobody had died. Eventually, some time around Christmas the first year, Lea had stopped even trying.

Of course, seeing the ever cheerful, energetic Lea waste away and shrink into her shell got her parents seriously worried. In a couple of weeks after Valentine had left, the school called their mother to discuss the drastic changes in her daughter's attitude to homework, class work, behavior and, consequently, life. Matt managed to handle basic school activities despite the rough times, but Lea, as usual, submerged all of herself in that yearning, leaving nothing on the surface.

The punishments were about as ineffective a solution as possible, since Lea spent most of the days in silence and gloom anyway. TV or the lack of it mattered little to her. The attempts at conversation were heartbreaking, but only for her classmates – the only one she seemed interested in talking to was her eldest brother, and occasionally her parents. One attempt of some bullies of stealing the gem around her neck, when the wound was still fresh, had resulted in a horrible fit full of screeching and shouting and other noises Lea hadn't even known she was capable of producing. The doctor, whom her parents hadn't hesitated to involve after that particular incident, attributed all of that to the shock of the situation and subjected Lea to various sorts of therapy, which didn't help her in the slightest.

The problem with the therapy, Matt had once deduced, was that it was grounded in the rational world where the connection between the younger siblings didn't exist and couldn't exist. The truth, however, was that it very much existed and beckoned the girl every day and every night in her mind. Matt had tried to help Lea as best as he could, so they spent hours silently slogging through unenthusiastic sessions of boring board games and plodding through fantasy books that didn't seem even remotely interesting anymore, but nobody could really help Matt himself in the first place.

The girl internally cheered when she heard the bell ringing, indicating a break. Lea soon found herself lost to what she first assumed to be another revelation, but as she noticed warmth in the front of her mind, she realized with an internal whoop of joy that the connection between her and her brother was working better. Wheter or not it was temporarily, she was glad for it. Smiling slightly, she decided to watch what was happening.

_She could see her brother walking towards her classroom, talking to Darren about the next dodge ball game. "You are going down! You are going down on me!" a chortle from Isabel. "Well, probably not with those teeth, but you're going down UNDER me." Darren gave him a sharp-toothed smile. She could feel Vale's head going faster than his mouth as he attempted to correct himself. "**Still** not what I meant. You're going down BY me! Just ignore that whole spiel; I don't know where I was going with that."_

Lea could feel herself lit up when she snapped out of her daydream and spotted him by the window of the door, waving at her. Waiting for the teacher telling the class they could leave, she watched with disinterest her classroom, the teacher five desks down and away from her own. One or two tiny green creatures crawled absently and chirped and swished their tails and…

The red-haired girl gnashed her teeth together in aggravation. They were **_noisy_**, them and her classmates, but at the very least these creatures were also quiet. As she'd ascertained, nobody else could hear them, she even had a problem hearing the muted sounds against the chatter of her classmates. _Jesus, take the whole car leadership._

Green eyes zeroed in at the sinister presence through the floor under her desk chair. The monster was small, long, and reptilian but clearly of different origins. Where? What did matter was where it had chosen to appear. That would need to be fixed, but she couldn't exactly tell a teacher, could she?

_Chomp, chomp, chomp._ Sharpening the tiny teeth, she supposed. Lea watched with baited breath before the thing finished making its way through a wooden chair leg, slicing it into two.

"Uh oh."

Too late, the girl turned and found herself falling off the severed seat, crashing to instantaneous silence followed by felonious laughter. Lea scrunched her face, embarrassingly attempting to stand and falling at each attempt on unsteady legs; mortified.

Vale growled, feeling a brief heat of fire lick at his flesh and bones before he entered abruptly, the door opening unexpectedly. The class muted itself, children and teacher alike backing away from him. Rumors about his scars and the place he had supposedly been had earned him quite a reputation.

Vale snarled as he gracefully- unusual for a thirteen year old but proof of his assured balance and footing, honed from fighting –picked his way to his sister. "What," the half Kaiju eyed the humans around him, "isn't it still funny?" He bared his longer than average canines, watching them flinch and squirm. "Don't stop now."

The boy bent down, picking up his little sister to his feet and narrowing his eyes at the clutched injured hand. "It's alright, lil' seer," he murmured, his voice cutting through Lea's thoughts far easier than it should have been.

Lea glanced towards her former friend. She hadn't laughed, but she hadn't said anything. Go figure, she had wanted to make friends with some of them.

And as she nodded at Vale, trying to keep her balance, she really began to hate hope.

Firmly, she told herself that she would never need a friend. There just weren't any friends for her in the world, and she should just accept that and get over it. Besides, she had her family whole again. Her brothers' friends seemed to like her. It was just fine.

And so she shot a last, dark look at the quiet children before following her brother.

She didn't need friends.

She didn't.

And maybe, if she would keep repeating it, she'd believe it someday.

She didn't need friends.

Wordlessly, Vale led his sister towards the playground –so many children playing, they wouldn't be the center of attention, that's for sure- . Ignoring his friends' questioning or angry gazes, Vale gently pried the wounded hand away from the younger towards his mouth and drew his tongue over the dirty, murky crimson with the appendage, despite Lea's whimpers, something he had learned down there. Besides, Vale would never willingly hurt his little sister.

He could feel the disgust and sickening, captivated eyes of those around on his person. It didn't matter to him, he only had a strong sense of _hurt_ and _home_ and _clan_ and _mine_.

Vale focused on the sensation of taste and touch. He plunged into the scrape, more of a gash from the sliced chair leg, lapping for grit, tiny pebbles, and bloodied dirt: all the filth that tainted his sister he would take for himself. He ignored the sniffles of Lea, now drawing his tongue longitudinal, just till the cut really became an actual scrape. He couldn't have anyone wondering.

Vale drew the muscle back into his mouth, permeated with the taste of grime, iron, and life all in one. It tasted ambrosial.

"Better?" He asked distractedly.

"Uh-huh." Lea nodded, a small thank-you escaping her lips.

"Good. And Lea?" Vale was inwardly seething with anger. Livid. How dare them...

Lea was _his_! His sister! _His!_

She was _his_! Just like Matt was! Just like Darren was! Just like Kenny and Isabel! **_HIS!_**

And she was being pushed away, ignored, hurt, made to believe she was _weirdwrongfreak_, when in reality she was so much more, she was _magicrightwanted_.

The aforementioned girl smiled, not caring about the color that now permeated her brother's eyes.

"The ones who bully you…don't worry about them. Give me names, and every time someone picks on you…I'll make sure to give them _hell_."

* * *

_"I hate when I have to be nice to someone I wish to spit on their face."_ Lea thought with uncharacteristic bitterness. Maybe she should have taken up Vale's offer…bu no, she wanted to befriend them or to be left alone, not them beaten to a pulp.

You know it's going to be a bad day when you fall out of bed and miss the floor. That was exactly what had happened to Lea when she woke up, though as usual his family made it a little more bearable.

She had walked to school by herself when she failed to locate both her brothers and her dog –where could he have gone anyway? Usually he was waiting for her- and she hoped Kobu hadn't fallen victim of whatever it was that was killing so many people and animals.

She almost freaked out when she saw a little critter practically walking along with her.

Before it got away, her quick reflexes caught its tail, and she examined the little guy. She had mistaken it for a frog, but there was something about its scaly body and beady eyes that told her otherwise. Ah, it was one of the things that made her fall of her seat earlier.

"What are you?" she wondered, pushing down her sense of anger.

She stared at the weird looking frog on her lap. It had stopped trying to get away after a minute. It stared at her with the same none existent ferocity Lea herself has.

"…Now what do I do with you?"

It cooed, and Lea fought every urge to giggle right then and there.

She failed horribly.

"Can you talk? My name is Lea! What's yours?"

It just cooed again.

"Hmm… How about I give you a nickname? Want that?"

It nodded.

"Okay! Uh, um…" _I didn't think naming would be so hard_,' She started to pull out names from her mind randomly.

"Any color you like?"

Its wide mouth quirked down, displeased, "Umm… Guy? Lee? Klein? Sora? Gin? Scarf? Toy?" It bounced up on her lap in frustration, "Bounce? Jump? Hop?" It shook its head again.

"Argh! Just pick a name already!" It tilted its head and pointed at her, "Me?" It perked, "Me? That's it? No? Me what? Mee… Mee?" It hopped, "Okay, if that's what you want," she frowned, "So why are you bothering me?"

Mee (2) started talking, but in an alien language she couldn't understand. The girl sighed at her pathetic attempt to understand its body language, "Can you promise me you won't bother me anymore? You really startled me."

Mee didn't say anything but subdued its head. She could tell it's reluctant, but is feeling guilty- probably. Lea was sure she was a horrible translator, "It's okay, just don't do that again. But still, what should I do with you? Do you have a home?"

It shook its head. Speaking of which…

"Are you a guy or a girl?"

Mee huffed and pumped its chest, and seemed to be flexing its muscle, "Alright, alright, you're a guy. I get it. How about you come with me? I can sneak you in my room. My brothers respect my privacy. They won't even know you're there, but you'll have to hide from Mom when she cleans my room whenever it's too messy."

Mee mewled, and hopped on top of her head and snuggled there affectionately. Lea made a tiny smile and patted its head- and by extension herself.

Maybe she _had _found a friend after all.

* * *

**Lea had practically slipped into depression after Vale left, and after three years I doubt her classmates interacted with her much.**

**Also, of course Vale would be very changed since the last time he was there, hence the fiery possessiveness around his friends.**

**I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	25. Deals and half-truths

**Hello guys, this is my Christmas chapter to you! Enjoy it, y'all! Also, for the ones that feel as through this story is a little too dark, I've planned a lighthearted chapter soon!**

_**"Promises are worse than lies."**_

* * *

He was staring at the TV, his brow furrowed and his mouth agape. He didn't understand the label that had been just said. Why would anyone make a movie out of this? A bad one to boot?

"Oh, you're watching that." Matt's head snapped towards the sound as his mother sat on the couch, beside him. "Did you do your homework?"

_Here we go again…_ "Due in a week. Me and Jake are gonna do it together." Matt answered automatically, his eyes once again glued to the screen which depicted quite a different thing that he'd assumed when he had decided to watch it.

His mother smiled indulgently at him before inquiring once again, "Has Vale been taking his medicine?" Immediately after that Matt chortled loudly, earning a raised eyebrow from his mother and a look of confusion of the aforementioned boy, hell-bent on finishing his own homework before the hour was up.

"He has but he doesn't like it one bit." Matt said with a smirking voice. "You should see his face when he drinks it! What does Batch flowers do anyway?" _why does he need medicine?_

"It's supposed to soothe nerves, help him sleep better." Marie explained, recalling how her husband had taken it once or twice.

"Ah." Her eldest child answered, before moving on to what had confused him in the first place. "What is this movie anyways?"

His mother huffed a bit. "It's an old movie, from my times. These kind of movies were made before the Kaiju War…they did it for fun. We weren't even aware that there was a whole race trying to destroy us. The very same race that we would stick in movies, books, us always, always winning. There were a lot of movies like that. Godzilla, Pacific Rim… After the war they stopped making them."

Wow. He didn't know how else to describe it. He and his siblings had lived all their lives with the knowledge that Kaiju were real, if distant at the time. But his parents, his grandparents…hadn't.

What would have been like, to wake up one day and realize that beings that were supposed to be fantasy actually existed? Dangerous, nearby, and unlike movies, with a very big chance of actually winning.

And now, history repeating itself, just like they had always known, but not acknowledged. _The board was ready_, he thought, _there were only the pieces missing_. Members of two races that despised one another. A dance of living, breathing chess pieces. Roaming, observing, calculating, every one of their motions so precise.

_Who were the Pawns, the Rooks? Where were the Bishops? Were all Knights present or just the one? Who was going to overthrow the King? The Queen? Who was going to be the winner when the sun came up?_

He didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

* * *

Even if the odd-looking frog wasn't what you would call a friend, at least she would have a new pet. Lea smiled as she heard Mee squawking softly in the top of her head, wondering once more just what was that thing.

Opening her backpack, the girl grabbed the green animal and would have placed it, him, inside had it not been for the fact that Mee didn't seem to like being confined to such a small space. Lea struggled with the small animal –it didn't seem to want to go away, it appeared to simply not want to be put in there.

"Please, Mee, it will only be for a few minutes-ow!" Lea yelped, finally grabbing the frog from where it had stopped to scratch her. '_I thought frogs didn't have claws.'_

The task complete, she zipped her backpack before opening the door, not even pausing to look at the injury. She had the feeling Mee wouldn't be well-received in her household.

_It did break the skin,_ Lea thought in surprise, eyeing the angry red gash in her arm. There was a first aid kit in her parents' bathroom. If she was quick, she could go and treat herself before her family noticed she was home.

And, she was met by her father's smile.

"I'm home, dad." She smiled back.

"How was school?" Julian had been talking to his middle child about what happened, but he wanted Lea's version of the events. That way he could do something, call the teachers maybe.

"It was good." Lea answered. "I just have a lot of homework." She sighed as they neared the table.

"Well, Mom's already helping me with mine so don't worry," Vale said as a greeting, writing the answer to the problem as Marie kissed her daughter hello.

Julian's eyes had wandered to the gash in her arm. He frowned.

Absently rubbing her injured arm, Lea caught the sudden frown out of the corner of her eye and froze. "Dad?"

Julian's frown twisted into a scowl. "What happened?"

Lea forced down a surge of nerves and let her hand fall away from her arm. "Nothing happened."

Lea bit back a groan as her mother sat in the chair in front of her. "Vale," Marie pointedly said. Said boy was on the verge of protesting, but he understood this was a conversation between his parents and her sister.

As she watched her brother leave, Lea's heart got stuck in her throat.

"Vale told us what happened today," Marie started. She couldn't get out more than that, Lea was already interrupting.

"I-It was nothing! I just slipped from the chair!" the girl said, surprising even herself with the force it came out. Julian was crossing his arms. "I'm serious! They just laughed because they're jerks! It happens every day!" she was immediately cursing herself when she realized what she said.

"Your classmates making fun of you is a general occurrence?" It was a statement, not a question coming from her mother's lips.

"Not…not always." The girl admitted. She couldn't keep lying to them. It didn't feel right with her. Besides it wasn't that bad. "They mostly ignore me. But it isn't that bad, really! I'm used to it."

Unreadable expressions were on her parents' faces. "You shouldn't be."

"Can I go? I really need to do my homework." Lea said, suddenly overwhelmed. Julian and Marie seemed to have taken pity of her. It wasn't like there was anything else to say.

"Okay. But if anything like that happens again, you tell either Dad or me." Lea nodded, relieved that this conversation was over for now.

She was starting on the stairs when she heard Marie's voice calling her. "And Lea? Tell your brother he doesn't need to beat those people up. I talked to him but I don't think it did much."

Lea didn't have a chance to laugh it off when she the aforementioned boy cornered her on the way to her room. For a split second, Lea thought he had appeared out of thin air, he was so quiet. That didn't stop her for jumping back. Her heart was thumping in her chest. She was certain Vale could hear it beating louder, louder, louder still, until it was a drum beating insistently in his ears, impossible to ignore.

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again. Please." The girl gasped, ignoring the way Vale grinned, having successfully scared her.

"Yes ma'am." The fair-haired boy's expression changed once again. "I don't want to sound like Mom and Dad, but what happened?"

"Didn't you hear-?"

"I thought I had healed that gash." He bluntly stated, gaze wandering downwards where a small patch of red resided. "Is everything okay?" her brother asked, eyes concerned and angry at the same time. "Did somebody hurt you?"

Lea's eyes widened. "I..." She fumbled for an excuse. Anything to get Vale -and later Matt- out of Vengeful Older Brother Mode. "No! I slipped and—" Vale was crossing his arms. "_Really!_ It reopened."

Vale looked at the girl in growing alarm. She was frightened, he could tell. She didn't give it away, best she could. But there was this little hitch in her breath now and then. Had something happened to her on her way home? Maybe she had been hurt; maybe she had seen something she shouldn't. But if that was the case, why wasn't Lea telling him?

He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, drawing in some kind of false security. For a split second he felt so odd and disconnected that he couldn't even tell if his heart was still working, forcing him to focus in on the noise that it should have been making. The soft thumping met his ears, allowing him a hint of relaxation at the knowledge that it was working despite his momentary doubts. It shook slightly, beating far too quickly with anticipation and apprehension, but it was steady despite the overwhelming embers that had settled in his chest.

Something wasn't right, yet he still continued with his questioning, trying to ignore the heat that was becoming too much.

"It isn't in the same spot. This one's lower." The boy insisted. "Lea, do not lie to me."

The girl tried to pinpoint exactly what was about that statement that bothered her. Maybe it was how he had said it, almost like an order. Perhaps the way he said 'do not lie to me' instead of 'don't lie to me'. Or maybe because he had suddenly looked at her, as if she was something lower than him, beneath him.

He had never done something like that.

And she noticed…why should she tell him anyway? Vale was the one keeping secrets in the first place. Contrasting her secret and what she thought was his, hers was a simple thing that had all the right to keep secret. Why would her brother care for her new pet anyways?

"Let me pass." Lea growled through gritted teeth, and walked past the boy, but the moment she was an inch away from him, Vale grabbed her wrist.

Lea gasped. Vale's thumb was placed under the bundle of carpal bones at the base of her hand. She could feel the bones threatening to disconnect from her wrist. She stared wide-eyed at the way it was twisted in a matter of seconds as her brother's eyes flashed green.

Vale was vaguely aware that he was doing something that felt simply _wrong_. His head swam, his heart lurching and jumping into his throat once more. The taste of blood seeped into his mouth. His lungs twisted and burned, and then something inside of him snapped.

Violently.

It felt like a dam had broken to pieces inside of his mind. A barrier vanished in a splintering pain with a noise akin to glass breaking and glistening, hitting the ground and cutting his skin. He swore his heart took a shard through it, got clipped. It bled into the space between them as desperation and fear and shattered reality, splinters of horror and pain and darkness swept through him. First his mind and then his being and then it burned. Something sizzled beneath his skin and ate at his conscious, seared through his being and left him wanting to scream.

But he hardly cared now as his mind started to splinter off into different directions.

For once in his life, the teen couldn't tell where he—his desires, his emotions, his mind, everything that made him _himself_—ended and _he_ began. It was as if they held a disjointed connection that had formed between them and grown too strong in too short a time. Vale realized that he felt like an extension of his own body, joined in different places, awkward places, in clumsy yet powerful ways, desperate and only partially restrained by something that he couldn't name. His mind felt strained, dazed.

Lea had screamed. Once. A call. And then it was all over and he could process the scene before him. He released her as if burnt. As soon as she was released Lea brought the wrist close to her chest as one foot inched back.

Her brother was looking at her with none of the ferocity he had been displaying a second ago. "…What happened?" he asked, but seemed to guess the majority of it when he took notice of Lea's expression, which in turn caused him to change his. His eyes were wide, and brown again. "Sorry…" he choked out, and now he was the one retreating. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"I..." Lea wavered. She had never had to lie like this before. This was different. And, caught between emotional exhaustion, the terror that she had experienced, and sudden guilt, words simply wouldn't come.

The brother could only stare as Lea dashed to her room before neither of them had realized it.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I swear I don't know. I'm sorry? Did I… Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" _do you want me to heal it_, went unsaid. Vale knew that suggestion wouldn't be welcomed.

Trying to peek through the keyhole, he found out Lea had redecorated her room in his absence. The walls were a deep red that pulsed in the light, sprinkled with her own creations and various posters, mostly of strange Japanese shows. Vale doubted she could read whatever was written on the posters. Her comforter was pulled over her bed, even though she hadn't cleaned it. The result was lumps of varying sizes and shapes and the comforter was weighed down by her sketchbook. A desk sat in one corner, littered with wadded up pieces of paper and pens.

It was odd, it was odd that even if he wanted to distance himself from his sister, it hurt. They had always had a trusting relationship, golden, golden, like the sun, golden, like the ray of light that joined them together. He missed the times when they were little and knew that no matter what was said the other would say the truth, always always always.

Vale said, _'Jump!_', and Lea said_, 'How high?'_ And she always jumped higher than Vale wanted her to. She went soaring. She went shooting for the sky. She went airborne.

And even with real wings he couldn't reach her.

* * *

Later, much later, Vale entered the room he shared with his brother. He had decided to wait a bit before going to apologize to his sister, though now a different thought occupied his mind. He was over the moon because of the fact they were to take advantage of the long weekend and go to a resort.

"Be careful that Mom and Dad don't see you with that…" Vale mumbled as he flopped on the bed. The fifteen-year-old startled and dropped both the book and the magazine it was concealing.

"What are you- I don't know what you're-" he continued trying to babble but stopped. ""It's really hard to talk when I'm trying to say things." He muttered, making Vale snort. "You won't tell on me, will you?" Matt asked anxiously.

"That my brother's reading porn? I may need a little convincing…" he saw Matt's wide eyed look. "It's my night to do the dishes…tell you what, you do the dishes today and I don't tell on you." Vale suggested.

"Okay…"

"Remember it's your night helping Mom with dinner…"

"Damn! I need to start the rice!" Matt exclaimed slamming his book shut.

"I think I'll watch," Vale said. "I want to see if Mom's managed to teach you to boil water yet."

"It wasn't that funny," Matt grumbled. "I was studying, I forgot I had the pot on, it could have happened to anyone."

"Sure it could, bro."

* * *

In her room, Lea was half-tempted to answer, to let her brother know that she wouldn't talk.

_No. No means no. _

And she heard his brother fiddling with the doorknob, twisting, turning, playing, like a child. The apologies that came from a mouth, his mouth, but she couldn't be sure, she had thought she had seen someone else in the hallway, someone she didn't want to meet.

And he had _hurt_ her.

Who had hurt her wasn't her brother, and that scared her. And yet, Valentine still was, hours after the incident (had he waited until she wasn't so scared, confused, had he waited for him instead? Did he even know what had happened?

_Let me be angry a few more minutes. Stop being such a good brother._

_Stop being so good._

_Stop being._

Her hands were twitching, twitching, twitching, and Mee and Kobu seemed to be having a staring contest down her bed. Why were her hands twitching? Her hands were supposed to be steady, to paint and draw and create.

She felt something brushing against her cheek. Maybe he was soothing her. Maybe he was trying to lull her into something warmer than all this, take her away, make her forget. Maybe he was trying to make a point 'I'm here, it's me.' Not the other one. Valen, her brother.

"It's okay," her hands stopped twitching.

That was odd. She had been in slight pain, and accepting her brother's apology had stopped a bit of it. It was instinct. It was human nature. She belonged to a species that possessed a natural aversion to pain. By definition, pain was unpleasant.

Aversion to pain - an evolutionary response, an evolutionary advantage.

No one could function properly whilst in pain. No one.

And it had faded when they were again in good terms.

"It's okay, just don't pressure me anymore when I don't want to tell you something." Mee had crawled onto the desk and was listening attentively. Really, why did she have to tell everything when her brother wouldn't?

There was a pause outside the door. "Le, you're my sister, you can't expect me not to worry about you."

Lea didn't provide him with an answer.

"Look, look, you let me pass and…and I'll consider eating up all the food in my plate today and ask for a second helping." He bribed, completely aware that his sister took that issue very seriously.

"Deal." As Lea said the word she felt an odd sensation chase down her spine, like keys turning in a lock.

* * *

"K'so!" Vale cursed as he tripped over his blanket and landed on his bed.

"Dude, you suck!" his brother laughed as he undressed, helping him up. "Did you took your medicine?" the elder brother asked, watching as the other boy carefully did as he was told.

Whatever snarky remark the blond boy was going to say died in his lips. He turned to his own bed and snickered. "Wow. Either you're really excited or your underwear is on too tight." He laughed as he turned off the lights.

"I'm going to ignore that… We're going to the beach!" Matt quietly cheered in the darkness of his room, turning to bid his brother goodnight. Then he noticed that Vale's eyes were burning, the green irises glowed eerily in the darkened room.

Vale grinned, the interior of his mouth was also glowing, illuminating his toothy smile. "Pretty cool huh?"

"Cut that out," Matt groaned throwing a pillow at Vale. "You look like a demented jack-o-lantern."

"I'm just having a bit of fun at your expense…" the hybrid child laughed.

"Cut that out, I don't wanna have nightmares!"

* * *

**Okay, guys, this is the latest chapter! REVIEW! And happy Holidays!**

**H. E. B.**


	26. Disguise

**Half an hour away from New Year in my timezone! Happy new year to all my readers!**

_**We are only falsehood, duplicity, contradiction; we both conceal and disguise ourselves from ourselves.**_

* * *

"It's so early in the morning I feel like puking." Vale yawned from his seat, sandwiched between his siblings. They had been on the road for one hour now and he had never managed to sleep in the RV. His decision to pass the time putting his notebook to use was ruined by her little sister about ten minutes later.

"The sky is blue, the sun rises from the East, and you're a liar." Lea glowered darkly at him. A very amused Valentine looked up from writing on his notebook, "Am I?"

"Yesterday when I let you into my room. You promised!" Lea pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"I promised to consider eating more." He corrected, and he let out a snicker, which came out as more of a hiss. "A Kaiju's word is his bond, and I did consider it very carefully… then I decided I wouldn't eat much."

"That's absolutely unfair!" Lea bristled, her eyes shining with anger.

"You two, stop it. We still have two hours left of the trip." Their mother said, looking at her youngest children. On the right side, Matt pulled out his headphones and looked at them with interest.

Vale smiled benignly, "I was merely giving her a lesson in negotiation."

Matt frowned, "Since when do you talk like that?"

"Matt, I think you are aware that I'm a Prince?" the black-haired teen nodded. "So I can't exactly talk like I do everyday when dealing or talking with Kaiju…and I usually slip into it when I talk about those matters, sorry." He gave an apologetic grin.

"Don't worry. What do you mean, 'negotiation'?" the eldest brother asked.

"Hey, that's useful to know." Vale defended himself. "In fact, any time two beings interact it is an exercise in negotiation, whether or not you are aware that you are negotiating. To be honest it doesn't even take two beings and thus two agendas is a generalization."

"Say what? If there's just one person then why is there something to fight over?" Lea asked frowning.

"Ah, there is what you want, what you believe you should do, what you believe is expected of you, what you think you are capable… and so on," Vale replied.

"Okay but what I want is you not tricking me anymore." Lea said with a pout as her mother glanced back in interest.

"Lea, if you listen to him I think you'll be more prepared next time." Matt commented, making himself confortable.

"Thanks big bro." Vale smiled. "Besides I've been wanting to teach you some things for a while. Okay so the first thing you need to know is that the weight of a Kaiju oath, or promise depends on two factors: Formality; a Kaiju may say 'I shall see you tomorrow,' and I would give it slightly better odds of happening than if a human were to say the same, but if they say "I promise that I will be here next Friday for your class," you can count upon it. And history: both the history of the oath and the history of the individual."

"For example?" Matt asked.

"Marriage." Vale replied without missing a beat. "Variations on the marriage oath have existed in most cultures for hundreds of years, the sheer weight of repetition makes it practically ironclad, then add in the ceremony…"

"Til death do us part," their mother said, looking thoughtful.

"Exactly," Vale said, enjoying the way he had their attention. "Now, there is no such thing as 'intent' in negotiation. There are only the words of the agreement. Elaborate wording and metaphor provide rich grounds for loop-holes. A strong contract is simple and literal in its terms."

"Like how when someone promises to 'consider' doing something it's pretty much worthless?" Lea asked giving Vale a dark look.

The brother beamed at her in return. "Precisely. Other thing you should know, Kaiju oaths never cover third party intervention."

"So, um, say that I was like you and Darren… what if I promised someone I'd cook them dinner then I got detention," Matt asked. "Would I be forced to sneak out of detention?"

"First of all, I pity the poor guy who you promised that," Vale laughed.

That earned him an empty juice carton to the head.

Lea just laughed.

"Hey it's true, you are no chef… But anyway, if a Kaiju is bound by two competing oaths the more weighty one will hold and, all else being equal, the oath first given will hold. Stacking oaths can be very useful… For Kaiju. It is one of the few ways we have of creating loop-holes which they aren't obligated to state upfront. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll try to sleep the next two hours."

"Wait, I'm still confused..."

Vale didn't answer, but found great pleasure in shifting his eyes to poisonous green and stare at both his siblings until they shuddered and looked away or complimented on how pretty they were and how well they suited him. (That was Lea. Vale threw the juice carton to her)

* * *

There's something that's got to be said about the refreshing breeze coming off the lake. There's nothing exactly like it. Its peaceful and refreshing breezes weaving around the busy beach-goers. Some of them racing for the water to prevent their feet from burning on the sun scorched sand, while others walked slowly faces upturned to the sun despite the risk of sunburn, wearing shoes and therefore protected from the fiery earth.

Vale himself was greatly enjoying himself, save for the initial nervousness that someone would freak out upon seeing him. (He wasn't an idiot and knew that even if the people in his own town tolerated his appearance, the real world wasn't always so kind). He'd ended up propping himself up on a towel on the sand. The way he was situated was perfect for getting as much as he could of the late afternoon sun, the soothing warmth seeping through his long sleeved t-shirt. He just wanted to sigh and close his eyes, fall asleep for a little while and let the sun heal his aches and pains. He was comfortable with the knowledge that his sister was nearby making sand castles. Or in her case, sand art, and just the thought of her building more of her masterpieces that would awe the passerby made his mouth lift in a worn but happy smile.

His father was on the lake, fishing to his heart's desire, while his mother was off supervising as Matt tried his hand at riding a water bike. And he was supposed to be watching Lea.

But squinting an eye, he could just make her out over the next dune of sand, excitedly destroying a rejected build. She knew he was looking, in that way of hers, and waved over to him. She'd be okay, maybe if he could take a little nap….just a small one.

He jerked awake, surprised by the stinging pain emanating from his palms. His only thought was, "What the heck?"

The other force that jerked him awake, and what he thought to be the primary motivator, was the small hand shaking his clothed shoulder.

"Hey Vale, Vaaaallleeeeee, c'mon wake up already."

"Muuuaahhhh…"

"Vale, words. Words are how people communicate."

"Mmmm...Fine Lea. Whuss up?" he asked, slurring slightly from sleep and quickly pocketing what he was sure were scratched palms.

"I'm going to play with him. Just in case you didn't see me." Lea said before quickly running off. A boy about her age was with her her and he watched them for a while, remembering the less-than-warm relationship of her sister with her classmates and fairly disgruntled that he had been shaken off his nap.

He was so focused on them he didn't notice the girl sitting next to him until she cleared her throat. He startled, "I'm sorry. I didn't notice you."

"It is alright. I wouldn't have bothered you, but my brother wandered off." as she talked, Vale eyed her. She was older than him, sixteen or seventeen it seemed. Blue eyes and black hair, watching the little boy that was currently playing with his own sister.

"It's okay. I have to watch my sister too." Vale answered. The girl beside him arched her eyebrow in confusion. "Your sister?"

Valentine laughed. "Yeah, we don't really look alike, do we? There, that little girl with red hair."

The raven-haired girl nodded. "K'Hal, now I see. What are you doing here?" the question was so odd it left the fair-haired boy without talking for a while. "Vacationing, like you. Taking a break from everything."

The girl seemed to understand, smiling slightly. Even with the age difference, Vale could say she was rather pretty, and if her muscles were any indication, quite active.

"I see... a wise decision. I should take you example, with the hard days that will come..." she trailed off. Vale distractedly nodded, watching as the girl's brother waved at Lea and disappeared behind a dune. The girl beside him stood up as well, "I have to leave."

Vale nodded. "We should meet again." he blurted out. Nevertheless, he and his family would be there for three days, and Lea seemed content playing with the girl's brother. He saw her about to go behind the same dune as the brother, and just before she did, she turned towards him and gave a small bow. "It was good talking to you, Duncan."

What could that mean didn't hit him for a few minutes.

_'What did you just call me?'_ Vale would have full-blown panicked had it not been for Lea choosing that moment to walk up to him.

"It's getting really late! We need to start heading back or Mom and Dad are going to get really worried!"

"Ah!"

"Yeah, Vale. Do I have to remind you who is supposed to be watching who here?"

"No, no it's okay. We're okay, we just have to go to the room and meet Mom and Dad so we can head off for dinner. I think that's what the plan was."

"Yeah, so let's hurry up and go, alright?"

"Mm-hmm."

She gave him a soft smile and grabbed his hand in hers, holding it tightly as they took their gathered belongings and started the short trek back to their hotel room.

"Hey, Vale. Are you okay?"

He looked at her, seeing the concern and soft frown on her young face, "What do you mean?" He unconsciously clenched his fists, wincing slightly at the now uncomfortable tingle.

"Back when I woke you up, you were kind of freaking out, your face was all scrunched up, and your eyes were shut really t-" she added, pulling his hand until he was bent about her height, "You had that wrinkle above your eyebrow right... here." she said poking him in the face, "That you only get when you're hurt," and she gave him a concerned look, "or you're really, really afraid."

"I'm okay. Just a bad dream." Vale reassured her, glad that he didn't have to lie. "Did you do any more sculptures while I was asleep?" he asked, wondering if he should tell Lea to wash in the water -the girl was practically covered with sand.

"Yep!" Lea answered with a bright smile. "I did lots of things! Though I prefer drawing..."

"And taking with you half the sand of the beach was part of some other sculpture? You'll stay in the bathroom for hours again." Vale couldn't help chuckling at the way the redhead's grin faded.

They walked in near-silence as they neared the hotel, until she spoke again, breaking the silence that once could have been of companionship, now was simply awkward.

"I did many things with Naiee." Lea smiled, "What 'bout you? Did you have fun with Naya?" Vale supposed the brother had mentioned her the sister's name. He nodded curtly, and it was quite a few more minutes before his sister spoke again. "If it's time or hot water you're worried about, we could bath together. Problem solved!" Lea said with a sense of finality.

It took Vale all he had to not stop in his tracks. "No." knowing she was about to question it, he elaborated. "We can't. It's wrong. I mean, you're a girl and I'm a boy."

Lea was more confused than before. "We did that sometimes..."

"We were little." The boy retorted, trying not to grimace.

Lea huffed in disbelief. "You're doing that again. The thing with your eyebrow."

Now if was Vale's turn to huff. "I wouldn't lie to you about something like that. Seriously, Le, it's oka-"

"It's not okay! We're not okay!" Lea growled at him.

They spent the rest of the walk in relative silence, him ignoring the elephant, she assuredly ignorant to it. However, she was not oblivious to his anxiety. So she kept her hand tightly clasped in his, seeking comfort from his presence as they met their parents for dinner. Dinner was a raucous affair, with Vale being the only quiet one of the group. The rest of the family tried to coax him out of his shell, and were eventually able to make him smirk and grin once or twice, which they counted as a victory.

* * *

Lea supposed it had been the subconscious nervousness about travelling that had her awaking in the middle of the night. There were sounds, creaking, quietly shifting place, while she lay in bed, in the hotel room shared with both her brothers. Looking around the previously familiar room, Lea realized that there are shadows, images. There is nothing but the dark and the shadows, and the creaking sounds of the room around her.

The child looked around, desperately trying to restore some semblance of order, of understanding to the shadows of the room. The dresser was there, the chair with her clothes draped over them looked scary, but she convinced herself that the clothes were just what she was wearing earlier; it was not a monster waiting to grab her once she shuts her eyes. Over in the corner was the closet.

The closet.

The door was shut. Did she leave it open earlier? Between unpacking, the beach and paying with Naiee, she couldn't remember. All that could be in there are clothes, some of her toys. That's all she hoped is in there. Did she leave the door open or not? The closet was dark, darker than the room, darker than under the bed. She heard a creak. When she was just a little kid, she believed a monster lived in the closet. But she was just a little kid then. There were no creatures in the closet. Much less a hotel's closet.

Did she leave the door open earlier?

Perhaps, perhaps, it wouldn't hurt to check, just make sure that the door is really shut. Of course, there were no beings lying in wait, but she really should check to make sure the door is shut tight. Rising from the bed, the girl slowly made her way to the closet, it's shut.

Did she leave the door open earlier?

"Lea?" the sleepy voice rising from the bed nearest to the right wall made some of her tension disappear. Lea knew she was being childish, but she quickly explained her predicament to her brother, whose eyebrows migrated North the more he heard. As she told him, she had a fleeting thought, what if the monsters weren't in the closet?

...What if it took over her brother, like last time? Was that monster his Kaiju side? No, that didn't seem correct.

Vale had his own monster haunting him, had he not?

Oblivious to his sister's musings, Vale faced the closet to his sister's request. Maybe he should check. What could it hurt? There are no entities waiting for him, ready to take advantage of his momentary exposure. He listened carefully at the door. Is that a shifting inside, a creak? No, he was imagining it. Still, perhaps he should check. Perhaps,

And yet.

"It wouldn't hurt to open the closet door just the smallest crack, would it?" Vale asked the girl, hoping his shifting eyes wouldn't scare her.

...

...

"You first."

* * *

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

_Ow._

Everything hurt. Matt walked inside the hotel room, deciding to join his brother for the afternoon. His skin was screaming at him. What could have possibly possessed him into forgetting to put sun block on?

"Hey baby brother, wanna do something?

Vale remained silent, his eyes focusing on his knees hidden beneath stark white sheets. Matt felt the last of his sore temper trickle away, only to be replaced with confused incredulity.

"O…kay… this isn't freaking me out at all," he murmured to himself, shifting awkwardly. He had no idea how else to respond, or what to do. This was complete uncharted territory.

"What are you doing here?" the little brother suddenly snapped, but his sour mood was gone the moment he laid his eyes on him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Sunburn, why else would I look like a cherry?" Matt answered as he resisted the urge to scratch at his peeled skin. "Anyways, I thought we could pass the time…play someth…" the black-haired boy trailed off.

Vale's gaze had drifted, focusing somewhere in the middle of the room. Matt followed his gaze, but didn't notice anything.

"…we can play something. That'd be great," Vale suddenly croaked, rubbing the side of his face with his palm, as though massaging away a headache. Matthew didn't move, surveying him closely.

"If you don't want to I can leave—"

"No… no. It's okay. In fact, I… I could really use the company."

Matt found himself taken aback again, this time by the look in those eyes. It almost looked… pleading…? Scared…? Helpless…?

None of this was making any sense to the teenager…

"Oh… um… well, what should we play?"

This felt so awkward.

"Well, the chess board is right here… do we have all the pieces…?"

"Um…"

Matt's eyes scanned the mess of jumbled board games on the floor before him, already noticing some wayward pieces. This was all so awkward.

Despite the uneasiness, a little smile played on his lips as he watched Vale snatch up one last black pawn and straighten. "You know you're going to kick my butt at this, right?"

Matt smiled. "I could use a little cheering up."

Vale chuckled a little, sitting cross-legged on the foot of bed as Matt set the checkered board between them. "I would think you'd like a little more of a challenge. What's a win if you don't fight for it?"

"Still a win," Matt proclaimed smugly, setting up the pieces on his end of the game board. Vale got to work on his own side, moving swiftly, clumsily, as though getting his pieces up first was part of the overall game. Matt clued in on this very fast, his own hands a blur as he stood them all up. "HA!" he shouted victoriously as he placed his final pawn with Vale still three figures short.

"Oh fine. Then you go first."

"I'm white. I go first anyways."

"…right."

Matt moved a pawn. Vale considered all the pieces, then moved one of his knights. Matt moved another pawn. Vale frowned. The other knight? No… if he managed to place a pawn in the other side of the board he could take advantage of it. Matt moved out his bishop. Vale, the other knight. A third pawn. A second pawn. A knight. A rook.

They played silently, falling into a rhythm. Vale honestly tried to think up some strategies – but on the other hand, it was amusing to see the seriousness of Matt's face.

Vale quickly stole a pawn, then a white knight. Matt's teeth chattered on his fingernails as he contemplated his next move. No… he couldn't do that… that would put his queen at… but what if he…

He moved a bishop, and sat back with his arms propped behind him, grinning up at his little brother. He would never guess what he was planning…

Valentine gazed down at the board a quiet moment. But his eyes remained fixed on no spot in particular, not glancing around thoughtfully like they ordinarily would. After what seemed like a few minutes, he blinked, as though suddenly remembering what he was doing, and moved a pawn.

Matt felt a jolt of electricity through his heart. Vale had just left himself wide open! His dark eyes glanced around the board. No, there was definitely no way he could…

He moved his bishop, capturing Vale's queen.

"Sucka!" he whooped, holding up the queen over his head like a trophy, a victory fanfare from a video game going through his head. "Now, now, it's nothing to get upset ov—"

He looked up, and realized Vale had stopped paying attention again. He hadn't even seemed to notice what'd happened. His gaze had wandered again, as though he were lost in thought, or listening for something. The older boy frowned, holding out a hand and snapping his fingers a few times. "Hellloooo. Earth to Valen! What's capturing the best piece if you won't even let me brag?"

"…Huh?"

Vale looked up at him, a dazed look in his face. Matt sighed a little in annoyance.

"…it's your turn."

Vale glanced down at the board. He didn't comment on his missing piece, moving a knight into place. Matt surveyed his move, and immediately moved a pawn, taking the knight out.

"Okay. Are you just _trying_ to let me win, now?" Matt asked, waving the knight in the air like it was evidence.

Vale didn't speak, his gaze focused toward the game board again. Matt frowned, beginning to grow restless, impatient. He leaned back on his hands again, letting his head fall back against his shoulders, chin up towards the ceiling with blood rushing to the top of his skull. His foot bobbed impatiently next to the game board.

Vale's gaze remained low, a hand absentmindedly toying with one of his pieces. He moved it without a sound, and sat back, waiting for his brother to move. Matt simply stared a long, tense moment, unsure what to think, or feel, or say. He glanced down at the game himself, choosing a pawn to move with little thought.

Vale moved his remaining knight, knocking out a white pawn. He swallowed noticeably. "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if things had gone differently?"

Goosebumps prickled on Matt's skin. Differently how? He eyed Vale carefully, feeling uneasy and wary. He tried not to let it show too much on his face, shrugging a little, glancing down at the little figures spread out between them.

Vale lapsed into silence once more, and Matt felt himself settling into tense concern. He realized just how worn the child looked… like a sand castle, battered by the tide, just realizing he would eventually be washed away.

"Vale?" he asked after he felt too much time had passed. The half-Kaiju looked up, his expression empty, lost… almost pleading again. He quickly glanced away, a breath hissing through his teeth as he bowed his head, shaking it a little.

"F…forget I said anything…"

As though to occupy himself, to just do something, the blond kid moved a piece on the board. Matt watched him silently a long moment before moving a piece of his own, not really paying attention to what the piece was, nor even if he was moving it in the right pattern. The game had simply become a means of distraction now.

"You can't let the "what if's" get to you, y'know? You'll go crazy doing that."

"Tell me about it…" Vale said with a strange smile, moving a pawn forward. He grinned fully now. "Thanks, Matt."

Confusion replaced Matt's uneasiness. "Why?"

Vale looked down at the board, and moved his bishop into position. A cocky, beady little grin graced his face. "Because I think I just won."

"WHAT?"

The orange teenager laughed and crossed his arms, looking downright smug as Matt curled over the game board, mouth hanging open in numb shock. "Big bro," the boy chuckled. "Life's tough—"

"Oh no, wait. Here we go." Matt slid his rook to the side, knocking over Vale's bishop. "Checkmate."

"….You have to be kidding me!" He scanned the board with numb but frantic disbelief.

"Well, lil' bro. Life's tough, get a helmet." Matt said haughtily, crossing his own arms as Vale's face grew surly in defeat.

"…Fine! You win! But I call for a rematch!"

"You're on."

* * *

**Yeah, Naiee and Naya were what you think. I mean, not only hostile Kaiju are roaming around, you know?**

**And so it ends our light chapter. The descent will be long. Whether they will survive, alive, whole, sane, only the Fates (and you dutiful storyteller) knows for sure.**

**Until next time, my friends.**

**H. E. B.**


	27. Good intentions

**Here's the last chapter for 15 days. I won't be able to log in, sorry.**

_**The road to Hell is paved with good intentions**_

* * *

"I'm peeling off," Matt grimaced, his headphones forgotten, focused instead on peeling off more of his skin. "Are we there yet?"

"We'll get there when we'll get there." Julian grumbled.

Those three days passed really quick, with the family enjoying them as much as they could. Unfortunately, it was time to return to their routine.

"I think there was an accident," Marie muttered, seeing a lot of people agglomerated and a police car nearby. In the backseat, Vale froze. It's natural for some people to have a bad scent… but this was… different.

Carnage. It smelled like carnage. The metallic lingering taste of blood was so thick...

They continued forwards, evading passing cars, when they saw it. Both the parents looked away, Matt tried his hardest not to gag and Lea screamed. Vale just stared.

The body was twisted and mangled horribly. The skin had been stripped away in certain areas. The internal organs had been made a snack of. The spine had been torn open and crushed into powdery dust, sharp teeth had made punctures on the remaining vertebras. Its skin was covered in bruises and scratch marks, with various big gashes. Bones had been ripped open, split down in the middle to show devoured marrow. Clothes had been shredded and soaked in blood, scattered around endlessly among the straw and dry earth. Rivulets of dark, dried blood coated what was left of the destroyed corpse. It had no eyes, the sockets staring into the distance. The hair had been stripped off the head, torn off in violent clumps and scattered, much like the clothes. It had already begun to be eaten by maggots…at least, what was left of it.

Nobody talked much the rest of the ride. They had heard about the disappearances, but to actually see the result up close was something completely different.

* * *

Lea woke up with tears in her eyes, but she didn't know why. When she tried to recall the dream, it evaded her clutches, already fading. She heard a door opening and tensed, before recognizing it as her brothers' room.

Oops. She had forgotten. Usually she found herself making sure to keep the doors to their room open, after she left to her own for the night. She knew, even if Vale didn't, that it somehow made him calmer. His nightmares were just a fraction less loud, and Matt as a result slept a tiny bit better.

She let them baby her. She let them believe she was naive, that she only knew the barest fraction of what was going on. Which wasn't entirely wrong. But still, she knew more than they thought.

Lea wondered if she shouldn't go with Vale, just to make sure they were okay. But she wouldn't be welcomed, would she?

The redheaded girl glanced at the pile of sketchbooks on her desk. She didn't know how often she'd retreat into her room, meaning to do some homework and just think about stuff and she'd find herself blinking dry eyes awake. Red paint would streak her hands and the canvas like blood, and black and dark browns would take up the remainder.

She'd have to wash it off guiltily, hoping that no one would notice, like a murderer trying to remove evidence of their heinous crime.

* * *

_Once again, he found himself lying on the floor of a closed cave, a makeshift prison. He could feel the blood pouring as his body numbed._

_It had never numbed before. That, he wasn't used to._

_It had gone too far. By the time his father noticed, he wouldn't be able to do anything to him, because he would no longer be there._

_In the darkness, he swam. The varying shades of black that rippled like the ocean between his alternatively closed and opened eyes. Open: a blurred bluish black, different at first from the darkness behind his closed lids. But as he felt the pool expanding, moving to spread about his head like a lurid halo; he had trouble discerning between the two. He could just feel it shining almost luminescent against the dark. But it was okay, he'd be with his mother soon. His family probably would be better off without him. It was all okay. He wasn't homesick anymore and the pain was dying, just like him. It was okay. All okay. Okay._

Awareness slowly crept in his subconscious, forcibly bringing him back to reality. Eyes squeezed shut, he heard his brother's steady breathing, became aware of the cocoon he had somehow made of the sheets through the night.

He didn't want to wake up.

Unwillingly, thoughts about what had been his most peaceful dream so far made themselves known. Why had his father let him live?

For a split second he remembered his body starting to fail, the blood pooling around him steadily. Vale lightly touched the scar on his face.

It burned.

And it helped to wake him up completely. Slowly he detangled himself, poking his head out of the nest of blankets. The luminous digital clock marked eight in the morning. He sighed and stood up tortuously slow.

He started to go down the stairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water or a warm cup of milk, anything to calm himself down. He moved carefully, not wanting to wake anyone up.

He paused. He could hear noises. He inched forward in the stairs slowly. As he came to the first floor, he could see that the light of the kitchen was on and the noises were his parents. Their voices weren't happy, his mother seemed upset. He slid down, sitting on the stairs. His heart skipped a beat, he didn't want to get caught, he retreated into the shadows of the stairs.

He could hear his parents hushed voices in the kitchen. They were arguing. About him. He could hear his mother whisper furiously that he had returned different, even if it wasn't unexpected, it worried her. That he wasn't eating. That he was much too quiet. That he would sit without moving for hours. That something was _wrong_.

Vale's breath caught in his throat as he hugged his knees. God, how he wished he could tell them. His attempts to forget the last years of his life had been nothing but failures, but he couldn't show his distress to his family.

What could he say anyways? That he was scared? That it was the nights which were the hardest? That it had become increasingly difficult to relax, instead being in a constant state of anxiety? Nobody would want to talk about how a monster who was supposed to be in hiding had been active and spying on his son's mind and that he had _hurt_ him.

With a start, he realized he was crying. He sighed and with the back of his hand cleaned his tears away. He was crying over nothing. Nothing had happened. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. On the contrary, this one had been his most liked dream so far. There was pain, yes, but there also was a sense of finality…of ending…With a jolt he realized.

_He had been about to never see his family again._

_He had been too injured._

**_He had wanted to die._**

The thought chilled him and made him stand up. He couldn't believe he had thought that.

At least he wasn't the King's punching bag anymore.

It was... senseless. Everything seemed so meaningless. It wasn't like he could do anything about it. He was half-Kaiju. He was supposed to be strong, he was supposed to be a leader, he was supposed to protect those dear to him.

He knew he wasn't strong by any means. The people he wanted to protect were protecting him.

He was still having nightmares. About those... things. He'd scream and cry until he woke, absolutely terrified. Terrified of mere memories.

_…broken useless alone betrayed breakingdown confused weak anxious readytogiveup pathetic depressed onthevergeoftears annoying burden distant Ideserveit lonely bitter crushed abouttofallapart empty unworthy defeated ungrateful coward nevergoodenough…_

And Vale knew it was true, he did, he did,_ he did_. He didn't need to hear it.

He couldn't tell them that. How could he when he realized what it could mean to them, that their adopted child had to suffer. But more importantly, when the war started they would be targeted and they would be hurt because of him and they would die too young too young too you-

He couldn't tell them that.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. He understood. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to dream anymore. He wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted to be Vale White again, he wanted to be that boy whose greatest trouble was ending the year with a passing grade in Math. Why was it so hard to forget? He needed to forget it. He didn't want to remember it. He wanted it all gone.

He would have to lie. Put a smile on his face, try his hardest to readapt to his former lifestyle, he thought as he found himself back in the bedroom, thunder clapping around him _'when did it started to rain?_'.

Vale sighed heavily, "Okay."

* * *

He was happy.

He was happy.

He. Was. Happy.

Hap-py.

Say it with him, Valentine White was happy for Darren. That didn't stop him from feeling like a horrible person. Because really, his friend surely had worked hard.

He had been the best at something for once and now...

The English test results that were bolded a beautiful 95 percent were shredded in his hands and he glared like Death itself at the nearly comatose from happiness Darren Wakeman who was with tears of joy running down his face.

_'I can't believe he scored higher than me on the multiple choice!' _Vale thought angrily.

"How the hell did you do it?"

"Hmph, even idiots get lucky sometimes."

"I'm happy for you Ren!"

"You must have studied real hard!"

"No." It came out shaky and everyone paused.

"No, I didn't." A hysterical laugh bubbled up from the wellspring of joy that was supplying the tear ducts higher up on his face and Darren burst out laughing manically, hands to the sky, "I just put C for all the answers and got a 96! Take that bitches! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH~"

Vale was going to kill him.

* * *

"If the opportunity arises, would you reveal the location of the lair?"

Vale startled out of his trance and found himself looking at Darren, who in turn was staring at him intently.

"Why would you like to know?" he asked back. "Why are you asking this in the first place, hmm?"

The Kaiju child sighed. "There's been Kaiju roaming around town." Vale decided to omit that he knew that already, "I talked to some of them. They're worried about 'Belloc's treasonous child'. You wouldn't do something like that, would you?"

"Why does it matters so much to you?" Vale finally said. Darren looked taken aback. "Valentine, even if your father didn't treat you as he should, would you condemn an entire race for the sins of one? I mean, they're still kin. Or are you on the humans' side?"

"There's no other option now, is there? I thought you were against Kaiju." Vale coolly inquired, stopping halfaway to the gym, not even noticing the bell ringing.

"I am against the King." Darren corrected. "Yes, my former home turned its back on me but that's only because of your father's doing. Yes, I want the people I love to be safe. No, I don't desire to war, but it's inevitable. Plus, your family and such are okay, but as a whole humans aren't fit to rule the world, really."

"How so?"

"We are Kaiju. We are supposed to be cruel, cunning, heartless and terrible. But this much I can tell you about humans: We never burned and tortured and ripped one another apart-"

"I'm sorry? What are you saying?" Vale asked in disbelief, intrigued with his friend's sudden change of heart.

"Could you please let me finish?" Darren asked in irritation. "Yes, we have done what humans would call 'dark deeds' but we never called it morality. Your father is obviously defective for doing what he did"

"I'm not sure what do you mean."

"They are hypocrites. They claim they are against violence and still use violence, commit genocide against their own kind." Darren insisted.

"Speaking of hypocrites... Our race is violent and chaotic. Why humanity can't be violent and chaotic?" Vale rebutted.

"You still don't understand. If you leave some seeds in the ground and come back a month ... What do you find?"

"A plant growing." The younger boy answered immediately.

"If you leave two animals of the same species, male and female, together, and then after some time you come back... what do you find?" Darren continued.

"Simple, cubs of that specie."

"Life." The Kaiju child corrected. "If you leave two human beings, alone, and after some time you come back, what do you find?"

Vale struggled to find an appropriate answer, but couldn't find it. "...I don't know. What?"

"One. Or none. That's human nature. Humanity has been failing from the start, we failed, the creation failed."

"Why are you telling me all this?" the prince asked, fed up with this conversation.

"What I mean is, humans aren't saints. If MEGTAF were to find you or me…well, I'm not sure we would ever come back." Darren explained. "The wrongs of my ancestors are not mine, yet our enemy comes regardless - to kill me and every one of my kin. Usually, we weren't the ones who committed the crimes that drive their bloodlust, but they want us dead from newborn to elderly, no survivors. Perhaps once they were the innocent party, the ones so wronged, but not any longer. They have learnt the thrill of the kill, the sick joy that comes with wanton violence and destruction. If it's them or us, I choose us, no contest, no guilt. I won't hesitate to defend those I love, be it human or Kaiju."

"You could have just said that you want to be in no definite side." Vale protested.

"I could've," Darren admitted. "But seeing you expressions…priceless. Besides it was a legitimate question." He grinned. "Oh, also…we're twenty minutes late to P. E."

"What?!"

Rushing ahead of his friend and getting off his shirt at the same time, Vale reached the changing rooms and attempted to get dressed like a blur, without caring if anyone saw. It was bad enough that he already was slightly late, but the add-on of Barnes having it out for him made matters worse. He had a terrible headache, to boot. This was simply not his day.

When Vale reached out to get his polo shirt his fingers couldn't find it. His eyes scanned the room and eventually found it on the floor by the entrance. He had dropped on the way in.  
Thinking nothing of it, Vale walked to the opposite side of the changing room, bent down, and retrieved his trampled shirt. He felt a prickly sensation between his shoulders; a few of the students stopped their idle chatter and stared at him as he walked past with wide eyes. The young hybrid didn't notice; he was used to being stared at constantly. So much so that he had learnt it was better to disregard it completely or risk an unfavorable situation. Eventually he no longer felt their glares burn into his skin.

But this time the stares were comprised of a different kind of disgust. It wasn't at him. It was for him. Vale lifted his arms and pulled the edges of the dirty polo over his arms. His ribcage lifted and became more prominent as he reached upwards. He let the fabric drop loosely around his torso and stepped backwards a few paces to let them through. The rest of the class exited via the door to the field.

He didn't expect Darren to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pining him to a wall.

"What are you doing?!" Kenny's indignant question reverberated through the room. Darren glanced at him before returning to look at the oddly immobile blond.

"You look like a skeleton with skin," he bluntly said. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I eat a little in meals, just not hungry." Vale muttered. "It's okay, I'm okay. I will continue your treatment. You don't have to worry." The boy insisted, though in his head he was saying, _get away from me_, saying, _don't touch me_, saying _stop it, stop it, stopit stopitstopitSTOPIT_!

Darren's hand shook and loosened from the collar. Vale had been eating, but not enough. Any food that was consumed was instantly digested and used up, or if he forgot to do what Darren advised him (which was…often…) he would throw it all up. As a result, he kept getting thinner. His body was like a parasite that demanded constant sustenance, of which he refused to give. Darren tugged on Vale's baggy shirt. The half Kaiju complied and removed it.

Both boys inspected him; Kenny remained at a safe-ish distance, whilst Darren stood close enough to prod him if needed. Vale took the time to inspect himself for the first time in the last month. He knew that his crazy metabolism was taking a toll on his body. He hadn't realized how much. Every rib clung to the thin layer of skin like cling film. The corners of his pelvis bulged in contrast to his overly skinny waist. The shoulders were so bony that, if the tiny build-up of muscle from training had not been there, the joint onto the arm would be visible. It wasn't a pretty sight for any onlooker.

On processing this, Vale suddenly felt very self-conscious. He put his shirt back on and strolled out to the field before the others could stop him. This was the exact reason why he had not let Matt see him when changing.

Just before he went to the gym, he felt a brush of ice against his mind, and Darren giving him a pointed look. _'Just remember: a person can cast aside their humanity at any time, one doesn't need to grow fangs or a tail in the process.'_

* * *

**Sorry it is so short, my dear readers. Your dutiful storyteller will return soon.**

**H. E. B.**


	28. Anticipation

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter! Sorry for the long wait.**

_**'Nobody knows what anticipation is anymore. Everything is so immediate.'**_

* * *

Her dream was ended abruptly as she was shaken back into reality, the faintest suggestions of tears in her eyes, though the dream was quickly forgotten. Not even the strange nightmare she kept having for the last six days did anything to damper Lea's mood. She felt…good. Better than she could ever remember feeling, like she could move a mountain. She threw off her blankets, got dressed and ran downstairs, finding her brother chuckling at her skipping.

"Hi," she beamed at him, taking her usual seat and helping herself with breakfast. The hybrid child gave her an odd look. "Aren't we chipper today? What happened?"

"Nothing, really. I just feel good today. Optimistic." she wasn't quite able to wipe the grin off her face.

He looked at her again. Longer this time. "Are you…feeling okay today, Le?"

"Yeah!" she smiled. "I'm feeling great, actually!"

She ate quickly – she was hungrier than she could ever remember being - and looked out the window at the beautiful morning. The sky was watery, pale blue, and the sun was pouring brilliant rays. It was a great day to be alive.

Vale had expected the girl to walk with him to school, but she had sprinted away. He chuckled a bit. "Newborn," he muttered, starting the walk to school. He was disappointed yet satisfied that he wasn't affected by Lea's inexplicable good mood. The satisfaction didn't last long, as he suddenly felt ill. Small bursts of electricity seemed to race through his nerves and his blood heated as if it were alight with fire.

He thought he heard a noise, quite possibly a small breath or a brief exhale, maybe even a sharp snarl that was cut short. He turned his head towards the noise immediately, but there wasn't anyone there. The small teen glanced around slowly, taking in the area around him, and frowned as he realized that it seemed almost as if there was no one around. He glanced once over his shoulder towards the street. The asphalt was oddly devoid of anything—human, animal, vehicle alike—and a sudden alarm and realization crept through him as he turned away again.

Vale didn't waste time and ran towards the school as fast as he could, his temperature rising by the second.

* * *

He held a quick breath as he opened the door. As expected, every student acknowledged his presence with an open stare. Arriving late wasn't by any means unusual but arriving late as he did –twenty minutes- would get a lot of questions sent his way. Their black pupils bore into him with a look of wonder and mischief. In school, rumors spread like wildfire and Vale was the victim of these particular rumor. All eyes were on him, and they burned.

The teacher ushered him in with a stern expression and gestured for Vale to go to his seat. Vale did his best to concentrate throughout the remainder of the lesson, though it was difficult to ignore the snide comments and glares from his classmates. Word had gotten out about the changing room incident.

They were talking about his disgusting, unnatural body. Anorexia Nervosa. Cancer. Inability to take care of himself. Depression. Everyone had their own ideas. Their comments were hurtful. And it wouldn't be long before someone would confront him about it.

He hadn't wanted to bring more attention to himself, considering that it'd most likely do the opposite of what he wanted. Like reminding a vulture that there's some carrion just a few seats away. Not to mention, if he acted like nothing had happened- which should be how everyone is acting, but they have to go and stick their rumor-munging mouths where they don't belong.

He knew some of them would be legitimately concerned, not consumed solely by the fact that they had a shiny new toy to focus on. Those were the ones that he'd have to ultimately watch out for, as there was not telling what they'd bring to the attentions of the teachers. They would have no qualms, considering he couldn't go and plead for them to keep their do-gooder mouths shut. He'd rather have the rumors, as the people who really counted to him already knew the truth…for the most part.

He'd have to sneak off sometime- maybe with Darren or Le in tow, to tell them the whole story behind the "too-skinny" thing, or as he was calling it in his head. It was shorter and less disturbing than, "The-time-the-other-kids-saw-him-with-his-shirt-off."

But really, he'd had no idea it had gotten that bad. There was something he'd heard somewhere, about how when things become normal for you, it's not really surprising that other things might be different. His skinniness was at the point was alarming to other people, which was normal for him. In fact, it was still way better than the way he was used to seeing himself, when he considered how he used to look before he came back. Sure, he wasn't eating as much as he should, but there was just something about it that made it seem almost physically unappealing. After so long, it must've become a habit to ration what he had, and take no more than he absolutely needed.

Still, that night, in the privacy of his bedroom he felt his hands up and down his chest, feeling the individual rib and taking his time to discern between them. Really, it wasn't cute, but it wasn't as bad as everyone was saying was it? But for them, if not for himself, he needed to stop being so careless. He didn't want everyone worrying over him, he didn't want anyone getting in trouble. The best thing he could do right now is make himself as good as he can in the event of something happening. Explain the situation to the others. Eat more. Remember to turn of the magic that had become so innate. Was there anything else that he needed to add to his mental checklist...?

That was it, right?

Wrong. He'd forgotten about all of the kids at school. That day when he saw Kenny and Isabel at lunch, he made a bee-line for their table, waited for them to finish then went to a secluded place when Vale could eat his own lunch in peace. He silently thanked his mother for the bag of coal he'd brought, once he had discovered he couldn't properly digest normal food any longer.

So, he forced himself to shut down the feeling of magic emanating from inside him, to kill the soft, warm, comforting glow. Then he really started to feel how hungry he was. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time. It started as an ache in his gut, followed by an intense growing pain. It felt like his stomach had gone from the point of eating itself, and was full into the point of digesting everything around it.

It was almost impossible for him to keep himself from forcing everything into his mouth. The only thing that kept the animalistic need at bay was the knowledge that he was surrounded on all sides with people able to almost instantaneously spread all kinds of information about the school. He might not care about his peers, but the best protection is anonymity. He noticed that as he finished his food, his friends were trying to carefully sneak food onto his plate, rather than the traditional off. Even if he couldn't eat most of it he appreciated it, but considering the way he was starting to feel after the fourth piece of coal… it might not have been the best choice.

Really. What part of the human body decided it was a good idea, after being starved for so long, rather than accepting the food, was to make it go back the way it came?

But the burgeoning nausea was telling a different story. So in the end he ended up with his bag half full, and his face resting against the lunch table. It was refreshingly cool against his newly fevered skin.

A hand rubbed against his back, and after an initial stiffness, he let it. He managed to look up, seeing Isabel's face right in his view.

"Ya' okay, Vale?"

"Just dandy." He grumbled, face a steady green.

"Maybe you shouldn't have eaten so much…." She said, her eyes bright with worry.

It was obvious by the look on his face that Darren agreed.

"Dude, you look like you're gonna hurl."

He sent an exasperated look in Kenny's direction. "No dip, Ken. This freakin sucks… I guess I went and ate a bit too much."

He swallowed back his food and whined a bit. He wasn't sure he preferred being so full rather than being not eating enough. No, not only just not eating enough, if Darren's outburst after gym was to be believed.

_"You can't starve yourself and say you're not hungry!'_

Starving. Sometimes Vale wondered how to describe it. He just couldn't understand why they were making all that fuss, he was still eating after all. But he knew other people would say it was a horrible habit to fall into, an useless habit. In Vale's humble opinion, those people didn't even realize what they were saying. They had never done it for hours and days and impossibly long weeks.

Sometimes, he just...forgot. Forgot he should eat more, and then he'd have to hear his mom or dad telling him that 'his stomach was getting smaller by the minute'. But if he wanted to get better, he'd just have to deal with it.

The sight of Lea chatting with a classmate a few tables away from him made his eyes widen in shock, and a small spark of jealously flickered, because since when Lea didn't have lunch with him?

He was unsure of when or how exactly he had become so terribly attached to his little sister and the short amount of time left him reeling, but at the same time he was not even sure that he should attempt justifying it. Perhaps it was another manifestation of their broken connection.

Even from a distance he could tell the girl was really animated, uncharacteristically so. "She's acting like a newborn..." Vale muttered as Darren hid his sniggers. And with his luck he had ended up trying to explain the why of his expression. Newborn Kaiju tended to be eccentric, irrational creatures. They were generally very happy throughout their childhood, and they spent a lot of their time running, from what he could gather.

"How did you free yourself yesterday?" Vale asked suddenly before laughing despite the pain in his stomach. If looks could kill Vale would have been dead the moment Darren looked at him.

Isabel blinked and Kenny looked between them back and forth. "I think we're missing something…" the black haired boy muttered. Vale laughed again before explaining.

FLASHBACK

_The phone rang. Darren picked it up. _

_"It wasn't nice, what you did." Lea's voice scolded him. "Vale studied hard for that test and you go and pass it by pure luck."_

_The Kaiju boy blinked. It wasn't like Vale to send his sister to talk to him when he could do so himself._

_"I was lucky, that's all." Darren answered, a small chuckle escaping him. "There's no need to be mad. Hell, your brother isn't, so you shouldn't."_

_"Are you sitting down?" Lea asked. Darren blinked at the unexpected change of topic. _

_"…Yes." _

_"Good." _

**_Click._**

_Darren listened to the disconnect signal. If she wanted him to sit, then he'd stand. He got up. The chair got up with him and he ended up bent over his desk, with the chair stuck to his butt. He grabbed the edge of the chair and tried to pull it off. _

_It remained stuck. _

_He would murder her. Slowly. And he'd enjoy every second of it._

_Once again, Darren picked up the phone and dialed the Whites' number. This time it was Vale who picked it up._

_"Yes?" _

_"She glued the chair to my ass." _

_Silence._

END FLASHBACK

"Stop laughing!" Darren grumbled at the three children cracking up. It had been bad enough to hear Vale laugh on the phone after those first few seconds of stunned disbelief.

"Okay, okay, I'm serious now." Kenny said with the most solemn face he could muster. It lasted two or three seconds before he burst into laughter once again.

* * *

Wide green eyes regarded the lithe shape that was leaned over the display case of various flavored and colored ice cream choices. The frame bent over the glass had her hands against the case, brows furrowed and her jaw clenched in concentration as her lips pursed slightly. Her head tilted as she worked on the task of making a decision of what to get on her cone. She looked like a hyperactive child faced with the difficulty of a math problem far above her mental capacity, and her companion could not help but smirk.

She had already ordered a Neapolitan combo, though she had put it off until she was sure that the other had gotten her cone as well. Kiara had a feeling that if she had gotten it already and begun to happily eat, it would have melted long before the other made up her mind.

"Okay, I think I'll go with mocha cookie double chunk," Lea finally stated, clearing her throat awkwardly as her partner rolled her eyes and shook her head in amusement. That was the flavor that the other had been leaning over the entire span of thirty minutes and she had not noticed its name before then?

"Wow, Lea, I applaud you," she teased, clapping lazily and laughing as the other scowled at her playfully and then snarled low in her throat. She snorted in amusement, taking her own cone.

"And I dub you a jerk, Kiara," the other commented teasingly, taking her own cone and licking happily.

"I'm the jerk? You're the one who made that poor man wait for you for half an hour!" Kiara cried, laughing at the way Lea pursed his lips and rolled her eyes.

They started forward without a backwards glance, licking at their ice cream cone and shouldering the door open. Lea allowed herself to be pulled forward onto the deserted street. She remembered Vale telling her she should try to make at least one friend, even explaining what he thought to be the reason why Kiara hadn't come to her aid that one time.

_'So she won't step forward... It's nothing to do with you, just pack-thinking: If she goes against the group to stand up for you, what if she ends up without the pack's support as well?'_

Kiara was pretty sure the sight of them eating ice cream was not something that could be deemed normal, knowing that prior to this day the two girls had barely interacted, in contrast with before. But then, Lea had approached her that morning and they had actually talked.

The redheaded girl didn't have any friends, that much she knew, so she was happy to see her interacting.

It was nice for a change, so she had not been able to stop herself from laughing and agreeing to go for ice cream when the other had suggested it that morning. And she suspected that Lea had expected her to refuse her because she had unconsciously been showing her nerves in the way she kept her eyes lowered trough most of their conversation.

Her eyes were drawn towards the ground again when she noticed something small and green dutifully following them. She would have mistaken it for a frog if it wasn't for the noticeable green scales and the beady black eyes. The brown-haired girl licked her lips as she struggled to remember the name of that creature…what was it…

"We have a Gomorradon following us." Kiara stated bluntly, distracting the other girl from tearing into her ice cream without much mind of the repercussions to her teeth.

Lea crouched down and extended her palm, and to Kiara's amazement, the tiny creature jumped right into it. The girl straightened as she continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"This is just Mee. I found 'im following me and he doesn't seem to want to leave," that explanation just made Kiara more confused as she watched the thing crooning at her and epically ignoring Kiara.

"Lea, that's a Gomorradon. These things live on Kaijus. They scout, warn of danger, and live off the slime that forms between their scales." And a few other things, she supposed, as it seemed the animal had been with Lea for a while.

"Eugh," Lea made a face at the last thing. "I suppose I should show it to Isabel then –that's one of my brother's friends- she loves anything related to Kaiju." She smiled, not giving the reveal of what Mee was much thought. It was too good of a day to be worrying.

"Shouldn't you tell your family first?" Kiara asked with interest. Lea shook her head.

"In this case, you tell the truth, you get in trouble. You lie, you get in trouble." she sighed, just knowing that's what would happen regardless if she revealed Mee or not.

* * *

The fried chicken left a delicious scent that swept through them both as Julian put the bag down in the center of the kitchen table. The spices used in the batter were unusually strong, the breading thick where it coated the fleshy meat, and it was cooked to perfection with a heat that made all of its various components strong in the air around them.

Matt was starving as he picked out some plates and grabbed his fork, dropping it onto his dish and taking a seat, giving Vale a somewhat confused look when he did not move at first. "What? Don't you like fried chicken?" he asked curiously, frowning slightly in confusion and blinking at him. "Oh I forgot…"

Vale gave him a small smile. "Don't worry, meat of any kind, that I can eat. I love fried chicken," he stated, grabbing the other dish and picking out a thigh before taking a seat next to him immediately. Their dad was busying himself with the cup of water he had formerly gotten when he had gone to get their meal from the restaurant down the street.

The man took the first bite, savoring the juicy meat as it warmed his tongue. Opening an eye to peek over at the younger of the boys, he nearly laughed when he found that Vale seemed to have reclaimed his appetite and was digging in to his own piece of chicken. His eyes were glazed over slightly with satisfaction and hunger and his mouth seemed to water more with the food in his jaws.

"Good, huh?"

"Perfect," Vale purred in response, licking his lips, biting into his meal again. Meanwhile, Matt was showing something to Lea on his cellphone, talking to her between bites of chicken.

"No cellphones on the table, Matthew, remember?" their mother admonished from her seat. Both her children laughed a bit. "Sorry Mom," the boy said. "Lea didn't believe something I said and I was showing her this picture to prove it."

"What did you tell her?" their father asked in interest, pausing slightly from his meal. It seemed the whole family was quite hungry today.

"That my chemistry teacher set the table on fire again today." Matt said, showing the man the aforementioned picture. Vale leaned to see it.

"Look at his smug face, he looks so happy," he chortled, swallowing quickly to avoid choking on his meal as he laughed.

"Chemists are never happy unless something is burning," Matt joked.

Lea turned to her fair haired brother, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Then you should be a chemist," the girl laughed causing the boy to join her.

Their mother was still laughing, though she caught up on something. "Your chemistry teacher set the table on fire _again_ today. **_Again_**."

Matt was full after his fourth piece of chicken, settling comfortably in his seat, and Vale finished his three pieces as well, sipping at his water before picking up a bone and bringing it to his teeth. They watched in absolute wonder and confused curiosity as the child cracked the bone between his molars.

His mouth worked on the piece of skeleton, his eyes narrowed in concentration but his stomach giving a slight, terribly soft growl that told everyone present immediately how hungry the child remained. Marie imagined that, in that moment, his digging into that bone was a lot like the need to sate an impossible itch that required you to gnaw on your own finger to appease it for a small time.

The bone cracked almost effortlessly, and the sound of it splintering made Julian blink wide eyes as he looked him over. "Is…is that actually good?" he mumbled softly, making his adopted son blink and glance at him.

"It can be, yes, but it's brain food too, so it's pretty good either way."

"Brain food?" Lea asked as she quickly grabbed a bone in her plate and attempted to imitate her brother. "Gotta try it for tomorrow then." She said, making him laugh and leaving her with a sense of victory. The boy paused and watched his dad for a moment, swallowing and then pulling the bone out of his mouth. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, go ahead. I just didn't know that anyone actually ate it." He shook his head and offered him a smile.

"I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable—"

"No, no, go ahead. I don't mind it." He paused for a moment and then looked at the bones on his plate before pursing his lips. "Do you want mine too, or…?"

There was a single momentary pause, so fast that it almost didn't exist. "No, that's okay. I'm okay. Thank you, dad."

Julian raised a brow but then shrugged as Vale cracked another piece of bone that broke straight in half in his mouth. Matt startled slightly at the splintering noise.

All in all, dinner was quite pleasant, more than it had been in a while.

* * *

That night, the air was sweet with an undertone of moisture indicating rain would be coming soon, despite the sky being at the moment freckled with stars, without a cloud in the horizon. Or at least, it seemed that way to Valentine, fully aware that he should be sleeping or at least attempting to rest (he still couldn't believe he had been told to go to bed early, his family operating under the assumption that he was breaking a fever). That had left him with time to think. It was only after he had fallen into his bed for the night that his mind dared wander back to the morning's odd occurrence.

Everything was the same as it ever was.

Everything the same, yet not.

The feeling that he had missed something vital niggled in his brain, making sleep elusive despite his weariness. He was full of the undeniable and disturbing sense that someone was watching him just beyond his peripheral. But it was hard to focus.

Ever since they had returned from their short vacation, he had headaches nearly all the time now. It was like someone was pounding into his skull, stripping him of his resistance bit by bit. Soon he noticed his body temperature increasing, as though someone had put embers inside him and a fire was slowly consuming him from the inside. How ironic.

He kicked his blanket off, silently so he wouldn't disturb his brother snoring softly next to him.

He shivered.

He was warm.

He wondered if anybody would notice if he went up in flames where he lay.

* * *

**Here is a delayed present for my readers. Your storyteller is 17 since the 16th!**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	29. Illusions

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter! Sorry for the long wait. I've been trying to do a different style, so tell me what you think of it.**

_**'Who looks inside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.'**_

* * *

Matt's hands were shaking as he realized something was very, very wrong when he woke up, turned around and looked at his brother's bed. Sheets on the floor, small whimpers, Vale's eyes were open and staring at the ceiling, unblinking.

The boy's breath was loud, out of cadence. He looked shaken - something had snapped in him, and he couldn't resume his control, wasn't even able to try. As soon as he unclasped his hands, he crumbled down from the bed, on the floor, locking into a ball so hard his muscles felt wooden.

_Being chased. Hiding to avoid someone seeing him, as always. Listening to conversations from wherever was his hiding spot, learning, thinking. Mistakes, punishments, insults. Missing the sky and the sun. Sneaking out to steal food, usually not ending well. Petty theft, all in the name of survival._

**_'DoN'T TouCh Me StOp iT GeT aWay FRoM mE!'_**

Matt shook Vale awake. "You were scratching your skin off," he quietly explained his deviation from their unspoken agreement where Matt did what he could to help Vale's nightmares without ever admitting to knowing about them.

Vale looked down, in his sleep he'd wrapped his arm around himself. His t-shirt was in tatters and the skin beneath it was heavily scored. He needed to calm himself down. His mind churned with half-baked plans and ideas. He needed to step back, set goals, analyze his situation, and formulate a strategy.

What was his ideal outcome? He paused.

Survival, he decided. Survive the coming war with his family intact. Leave. Never fight again.

He wanted out. He wanted to be completely neutral, but he suspected neutrality was a just a pipe dream.

His stomach clenched. Bile filled his mouth. Foreign urges warred with his desire to survive, transforming his mind into a dark labyrinth with no way out. The monster lurked in the shadows, stalking him. The moment it consumed him he would die and it would take his place, becoming him ,if only temporarily. No one would ever mourn him because as long as his body lived, breathed, and spoke, who would say the monster killed him? No one.

Maybe the monster was just a figment of his imagination, triggered by recent events. Not real. Gut feelings weren't proof. They weren't. They were not.

Apologies were made and bandages were applied. The younger boy never mentioned this wasn't the first time it happened.

* * *

Lea had never expected the nightmare she was now getting used to have, even if she didn't quite remember it, would clear itself, would allow her to peer in what she suspected wasn't just a disjointed recollection of events that didn't have meaning, would let her see.

But it had, and the girl immediately wished it hadn't.

Lea had crawled out of bed (late, late into the night) to come stand beside the bed and simply stare and stare until she could come up with some way to convince herself this wasn't a dream and letting Valentine out of her sight wasn't going to mean he might actually still be dead. Watching the slight rise and fall of the comforter seemed to help, but Lea still felt twitchy and unable to close her eyes.

The lump under the covers shifted, feeling eyes on him, and Vale peered blurry-eyed up at her. "You okay?"

No, she wanted to say around the lump in her throat. No, because before you were _dead_ and now you're _not_, and none of this feels _real_.

Something must have come through in her expression, because Vale moved over under the covers and held up the end on the now empty side of the bed.

Lea didn't have to be told twice.

They shifted around, the bed nowhere near big enough for two people, before settling back to back and heart to heart. It would get a little too hot as the night went on, but for now, the heat of her brother's (living) body warmed Lea's, slowly sleeping in and finding every cold place that had formed over the past three years.

Lea hadn't realized how tense she'd been, until it was gone.

"Stop thinking. Not going anywhere." Vale's voice was groggy and barely more than a sleepy murmur. "Too early to be up."

Lea smiled and didn't care that there were pricks of tears in her eyes. "Night, Vale."

* * *

Art was Lea's favorite class, that much was certain to anyone who knew her. She loved drawing and painting, and intended to put that to good use the second she heard that day's assignment. It was very simple, draw anything she wanted, anything at all.

She loved art class. There was everything she needed, everything she wanted. She had breathing space.

Eagerly she picked up her pencil and rolled it between her fingers, ignoring Kiara who had been left staring at her own sheet of paper, wondering what to draw.

At first it had been just a blank paper, but she penciled a few strokes and the drawing grew and grew, until she had a pretty good idea of what it was and she hated it and wanted to throw it to the thrash bin right that instant. Because the paper was filled with gray and brown and so so so much red, and the boy lying there looks too much like him. The shadows were hands that reached out to grab him, punch him, kick him, or mouths with jagged teeth that spit hateful words.

"Oh, that is so powerful!" Mrs. Jackson appeared at her side, smiling. "May I see it?"

Lea didn't want her to see, it felt too personal, she had only seen a bit of the drawing. "Um..."

"Oh, I just need proof that you've done it, honey."

'Powerful'. It isn't, and it will never be. That's what she thinks as she walked to the trash can and ripped it in half, in quarters, in eights. She didn't care about the teacher telling her that it was a great drawing, that she could've kept it.

It's only when she's back on her desk that she notices the drawing, another one that for the life of her she couldn't remember making. A butterfly in the sky, wings all orange and yellow and brown, flying in her previously blank sheet. In the background, a swirl of grays and blues and darks, what she could only describe as a hurricane.

Dread pools in her gut, and she's reluctant to hand it in.

She receives top marks.

* * *

As soon as the school bell rang, Naya started her mission. With the hordes of students now in class, she was free to roam the area unnoticed. She quickly found the building the small prince was occupying, and idly perched herself upon a nearby tree that faced the windows. Conveniently, the child sat directly across it, allowing for an easy time in observing him.

As she watched the hybrid, Naya thought back to how she had gotten herself into this situation. Yes, she had ordered one of her Gomorradons to track down the heir to the throne. The King had gone absolutely berserk when the boy had literally flown away -understandably- and she thought she could gain something if she could convince him to go back. Not only the fair haired child was the the son to the greatest Kaiju alive, heir to the throne and ultimate weapon in winning the war, he was also (in Naya's opinion) the youngest and weakest Kaiju, incredibly vulnerable as he sat amongst his natural enemies of humans.

But what her Gomorradon found had confused her so greatly she decided to check it herself.

What she had discovered: another heir to the throne -a flamehead named Lea that had apparently taken a liking to her Gomorradon (she had even named it!) and had charmed Naya's little brother enough that he was thinking to ask her for a mate (she had to threaten him to more training just so he'd stop trying to go with her) a human brother, and a prince who was too frail for her liking.

Regardless, it would be a while before the class ended, and with nothing else to do, Naya settled down for a long hour. She had initially attempted to occupy herself with her various snacks, and the occasional pestering of the birds, but eventually even they grew dull and she found herself falling into to the familiar territory of boredom.

She redirected her attention to the half-human babe (she had been absolutely gobsmacked when she learned his age -even when he was first introduced he looked like he was only just past babyhood, but even then she had assumed the boy to be four hundred at the absolutely least. Now, mere three years later, he aged centuries before her eyes) and found him writing. Honestly, the child was too naïve. He should have known better than to lower his guard simply because he was in an environment which he perceived to be protected. His lack of experience and skill was obvious when he couldn't even sense Naya's presence despite their close proximity.

For what she had learned, picking up stray thoughts of him, the background of his thoughts was what he could do to protect his family and friends from the hands of Kaiju. It was such an innocent mindset! He was a delicate little thing. Well… at least he was when compared to the other Kaiju. It was easy to forget that he was half human (she had seen him in action once or twice -and though she had a few comments, more along the lines of why he preferred hiding or running rather than fighting) and wasn't as endurable as his Kaiju kin. The boy could be hurt severely if the injuries were serious enough.

He was just far too human. In fact, Naya had been surprised when she first saw him at the beach, while both their siblings played in the sand. Even with the knowledge that he was only half a Kaiju, he had expected the boy to be a bit more fearsome. Instead, he appeared as human as one could get.

Soon the birds learned not to approach her and the class still hadn't ended (Ghyyzda how long did these lessons go for?).

The black-haired Kaiju focused her attention to the humans her future ruler hung out with, and had to bite back a snort of contempt. Huh, if this was the crowd the boy hung around with, it was no wonder he was weak. She had even overheard the prince telling the pale one about 'proper posture, if you keep looking at the ground they'll perceive you as a target...' _'Newsflash pale boy, humans are MEANT to be targets, if you're one among your own kind it's not our problem!'_ Naya wanted to yell at him. Interestingly, she sensed a full Kaiju sitting right next to the Prince and had to repress a wince of sympathy.

No Kaiju enjoyed having to be in their human form for too long -the size difference was too big and it reduced their lifespans, to the point that, if enough time passed, the Kaiju would find themself again at a human's rate. Seriously, those two! The brown haired Kaiju, she could understand he didn't have a choice in the matter, but the little prince...

Did he not know they were his enemies, or was he just that stupid? She simply didn't understand it. The child-prince would rather engage with his enemies than with his kin? The child was practically flourishing the humans with his attention while turning his back to what had been his home for the past years. Then again, Naya considered, the prince _had_ been raised by humans before...

The bell rang, an unexpected sound that hurt her hears.

Naya found herself inwardly cheering with everyone else.

* * *

She kept an eye of him for the two days she was able to bear it, watching him go on about his life, feeling sicker by the minute. _'It's nothing to worry about'_ he said, time and time again. _'I'm okay' 'It's just a fever'._

They both knew what that meant.

And now there she was, doodling, using Matt's bed since he was out with his friends, and Vale was writing, which he could be found doing more often than not. And suddenly Lea was _tired_. Tired of holding it together. Tired of trying to pretend nothing was wrong when it still felt that _everything_ was wrong, which wasn't fair, because Valentine was _right there_, and yet it did nothing to make Lea _forget_.

Slowly, Lea rose out of the chair and crossed the room on autopilot. When she reached her brother, her arms moved without any prior thought, reaching around to cling to her brother, trying to ground herself in the here and now.

Vale didn't hesitate to return the embrace, but there was a shred of something nearing fear in his eyes, because his little sister was _shaking _and he _didn't know why_. "Lea?"

_What are you so afraid of, little one?_

Was it the thunderstorm outside, lightning flashing and thunder clapping just as suddenly, leaving ears ringing and a half-second of alert? Was it something that haunted her sleeping nights, some sort of nightmare she couldn't get rid of? Was the source of her fear in dreamland or realland, what could be hurting her little sister so?

It was like the nights they spent as children, ages ago in another skin, another life, almost. Being her comforter, her protector, her prince in a shining armor that were only pajamas and would assure her that everything would be alright. Too young, both too young, and the next three years were spent in a daze, far too many, and now wishing and waiting and wanting so desperately to go back, to return to what once was. She wanting to know those years of darkness, he wishing to forget but unable to.

"You died." She clung tighter, burying her face in Vale's shirt. "You _died_ and you left us alone." The tears burned her eyes, causing her to blink and blur her vision. "You left me alone."

The body she was clinging to went rigid, most likely from alarm. "I'm right here." The hands on her shoulders tightened and gave her as much of a shake as their position allowed.

Vale tightened his grip around her, never intending to let go, feeling her mimic him immediately after. He kept his voice soft as he tried, tried so hard to come up with something that would soothe her, that would ensure she'd later look back to this incident with the relief that came from being assured, instead of with the terror that would arise if he couldn't find a definite response.

And if chosen wrong, his answer would haunt her, definitely.

"He hurt you. He killed you." Lea choked half a sob as She looked up, tried both to explain and understand why this was kept away from her. To almost lose her brother and not being aware of it until years later was almost too much for the nine-year-old to bear.

"…No." it sounded soft and it made her pause. "No he didn't. You would have known." Vale finally spoke, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Besides, I'm not going anywhere without you following, 'member?" It may had been a lie or a truth, spoken in their mutual ignorance, but the siblings knew the bond they shared was broken, disjointed, and thus could not have the name it previously had. His guesses were as good as any. "You are me and I am you. Remember?"

He'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant protecting his family. If he had refused in the first place, the consequences would have been… severe.

He didn't do it because it was clever or _right_.

Vale did it because it was _necessary_.

* * *

Darren had toyed with the idea of telling his uncle about Vale's problem since the 'changing room' incident, as he was calling it in his head. He was quite reluctant in doing so, for the simple reason that it was too personal, too intimate of a secret to just tell it, to just throw words in the wind. Even so, he found himself in need of advise.

He found himself keeping an eye on the younger boy, and what he could see disturbed him. Take this morning, for example. He could feel heated and he had been only sitting next to Vale. His face was slowly turning red and was shivering like a leaf. Darren was sure the boy had developed a fever and was about to call the teacher and let her see the problem. That was, until he spotted Vale's gaze. His normally bright brown eyes looked nearly black with enormously dilated pupils. He breathed as if his heart was about to stop.

And when he had tried to use the special vision he himself had taught his prince, it seemed as if there were two beings instead of one. Whether a parasite or an attacker, it was restless and bright, oh so bright it hurt his eyes and made him snap them open and not blink for as long as he was able to.

When the teen Kaiju gathers the courage to tell -in his mind apologizing to what he considers to be his best friend- he's left exactly with what he started with. Not that Darren blames him, abuse is one of the, if not the single worst thing any Kaiju could do. Who would deliberately harm one's offspring? Who would intentionally stunt a child, weaken their own bloodline?

The next thing Rîus tells him is that he's going to leave, but that he promises to be back tonight. Darren doesn't give this much thought -it has happened ever since he was a small child, and his uncle has always returned in the promised time, sometimes even earlier. Darren likes to think his uncle leaves because he's planning something. Everything he's done for the last eight years, the last lifetime. If he is honest, he's sure his uncle has been planning forever.

He doesn't ask if he can come, too. He knows the answer. He sat on his bed, dimly aware of the snake wrapped loosely around his waist, his tail. Nobody has ever seen it, always hidden beneath a pant leg. It was yet another thing that marked him as different. Special. Feared. Hated. Despised.

He knows the answer, besides he's needed here.

* * *

**We're reaching the 'bottom' my dearest readers!**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	30. A hurricane and a butterfly

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter! This marks the beginning of a new arc in the story, and I hope you enjoy it! Oh, the thing that's in place of a line break is to symbolize a dream. I could've done it in italics but it's too large. Man, this would've taken a lot to write if I didn't have most of the scenes already done.**

**Can you tie in the name of the chapter? Do you know what it represents?**

* * *

As the Kaiju who adopted the name of Darren Wakeman sat in the kitchen table, he tensely watched the door. It hadn't moved, not an inch or a jiggle of the doorknob, but he wished more than anything that he'd soon be met with his uncle's face.

He'd apologize for being gone so long. Explain everything that happened.

But Darren accepted that it was a futile hope at this point.

He had held onto that hope for days. Weeks. Why think it would suddenly come true now?  
As it had happened so many times since he was a child, his uncle left, saying he'd return that night. And Darren trusted him, since he never let three days pass without coming home again. If his uncle said he would return tonight, then he would.

He had to...

He promised...

What should have been that "tonight" passed. No sign of him.

The first night, his conviction that he would soon return gave way to unease.

As much as he tried to entertain himself, getting sleepier, he kept glancing at the clock. The hours waned. Soon midnight had passed.

He tried calling him. Twice. Several times more ten minutes later. Always the same busy signal.  
Nothing by the next morning. Just silence. An empty, piercing silence.

Again and again, he tried calling him throughout the day. Nothing.

By the second night, a panicked desperation had overtaken his hope. His uncle was the only family he had left.

But he clung on to even a shred of their promise. He had to be just held up. He had to, he had to...

But what was two nights then became three.

Then five.

Seven.

Ten.

Thirteen.

And now it had been exactly 15 days since he had last seen his uncle. Half a month without him.

Only now he became aware of the chilled wind swirling around him, how frost was moving to cover the wall in front of him like a delicate spider web, and he focused in controlling his magic. It wouldn't be good if he was discovered, would it?

* * *

On the twentieth day, the Kaiju boy had almost stopped paying attention. Darren had absorbed all the information, filtered back the comments he knew that his friends would want to hear, and then had not really bothered past that. Since he had been left alone like this, he had found himself in a rather constant state of exhaustion, waking in the middle of the night hopeful and waiting. On a rare night, when he was either particularly hopeful or pathetically lonely, he would get to his feet to open the window some.

Only that they were talking about his best friend's deteriorating state made him listen.

"Oh, come on, guys. You know that sometimes to make an omelet you have to break a few eggs." Isabel was saying.

That earned her a glare from Matt, who was looking as capable of breathing fire as the subject of their conversation. "Are you comparing my brother to a broken egg?!"

Isabel held her hands up in placation. "No, no, no. Uh, how about this. It takes a lot of pressure to make a diamond! The use of a really difficult situation to make a really strong person!"

Kenny gave her a mocking look, his confidence having improved minimally since the crash course in posture Vale did. It had actually worked a bit. "Or the pressure makes them crack... Like an egg. Trauma could easily make 'im come out weaker than he was before."

Darren didn't say anything, but he found himself agreeing with Kenny.

* * *

A few cars passed by, humming softly as they faded from view, and Vale swore he saw something moving in the very corner of his vision. It might have been a single stab of light or an action that had caught and held his attention for a few moments, but his head turned regardless.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, almost like a drifting breeze, and he took off running with the energy that flooded his limbs momentarily. He turned a corner, muscle memory more than conscious choice guiding his way, and his mind leaped forward with thoughts as to where he was going. The sound of his sneakers against the asphalt made his ears ring as blood pounded through them with the power to nearly deafen him. He had no conscious control of what he was doing beyond breathing and looking around, and his legs were carrying him as swiftly as possible.

As soon as he arrived to the park, utterly devoid of people Vale could come back to his senses. Odd, he normally didn't take such a big detour on his way home, he went towards it as fast as it was proper without making it seem like he was running. His inexplicable bout of sickness had only strengthened that urge.

So why, then, had he ran towards the park? So why, then, the aforementioned park was absolutely bare?

Vale shook his head and glanced around once. He knew now, without a question of a doubt, that _he_ had done this. How Vale actually knew this was beyond him at that moment as well. He should not have known this in all actuality. But there it was, like some kind of fountain welling too high with water that was slipping over the edges. He supposed he was bound to notice something amiss if his mind was being warped so.

He was there somewhere, possibly watching him for all he knew. He thought momentarily that he might hear him breathing but realized immediately that all that was audible was his own steps as he continued forward. And suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he screamed both with mind and with voice, stopping only when he realized it was Isabel, not anyone else who might want to cause him harm.

"You just took off running. Is everything alright?" the girl asked, and Vale had half a mind of confessing his theory, but he decided to keep it to himself. For now, at least.

"'S nothing. I gotta go home." he mumbled, quickly retracing his steps.

As soon as he did he chugged down half a bottle of medicine.

* * *

On the fifth week since he had returned from his short vacation, he realized he was now getting incredibly easy to anger. The illness, the suspicion of what was really wrong with him, the concern he had for Darren -the brown haired boy was constantly on edge since his guardian's disappearance- all of it had helped to stress him out. He shouldn't have been surprised, then, that once when he saw one of Troy's friends (Gordon, he thinks was his name) seemingly bent on bullying Kenny, easily the weakest physically of his group, he _snapped_.

"Had your fun, yet?" he asked with a faint lisp. The only thing he remembered through the fog of red was breaking Gordon's arm and slamming him against the lockers, the boy squirming in pain as Kenny looked on in horror.

"You will not get away with this," the human, redheaded boy whispered. "With hurting me."

Vale laughed, a cracked songbird sort of sound. "Isn't that the line the hero's supposed to speak?" he asked and shook his head. "Hurt you? Oh, no. I can do much worse than that." Vale heard himself saying as a mocking smirk graced his lips. He felt his eyes shift and a bit of smoke coming from his mouth, successfully keeping the larger boy still with shock at the sight that he wasn't human and never had been. "Remember this day. Remember that I beat you, that you're just a human being." he pressed him even more against the lockers. "If I wanted to kill you, I could've just breathed at you. If I wanted to kill you, I could've flown high with you on tow and dropped you. If I wanted to kill you, I can still bite you in the jugular." he released him abruptly and took a couple steps back, ignoring the voice that told him to do just that.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." he hissed with finality.

His parents had been called and Barnes was even more attentive than usual. The fever and headaches never left.

The sixth week took a turn for the worst. His nightmares rose with a vengeance he hadn't been prepared for. Vale spent that week skulking the halls like a zombie, stepping on the back of his classmates' sneakers and getting in trouble for dozing in class. His teachers mumbled their concerns behind his back, and he felt adrift in a black sea he didn't know how to swim in. His new friends at school didn't know how to handle him, and Kenny was always reluctant when Vale practically handed over his entire lunch to the pale boy. Lea still paid him no mind, however, nicking herself a single lollipop from his lunch bag. While normally he'd have fought her for it, right now Vale didn't care: his appetite was shot. The very thought of food made his stomach churn.

On the second day into the seventh week, a cloudless Tuesday, he sat at lunch in a daze. Isabel let out a nervous sigh every few minutes or so, a shaky hand running through her long brown hair. His artistic sister was currently doodling frantically in her sketchbook, and Vale watched with wide eyes as the familiar image of orange eyes formed itself on the page. His throat tightened uncomfortably, but Lea only smiled.

"Hiding the problem doesn't make it go away, you know?"

He had to leave early that day, after having a panic attack during math, and whispers filled the halls that not even he knew how to shush.

That weekend he woke up to _red_.

His arms were covered in claw marks. They went from wrist to elbow, long slits and slashes that left puckered flesh on his arms like valleys of blood. Vale was so shocked he could only squeak out a shallow gasp. The wounds weren't deep enough to need stitches (hopefully), but that didn't stop the copious amount of blood from coating his arms and dying his sheets and pajamas an all-too-familiar shade. Everything hurt and his head pounded to the beat of his rapidly racing heart. Breath came out in panicked huffs for air, but he somehow managed to escape to the bathroom without being heard. Vale spent the majority of his morning there, either puking his guts out or wrapping bandages tightly around his arms until he was positive nothing would bleed through. When he finally left the bathroom, clad in a new long-sleeved shirt and bloody rags hiding in wait underneath the sink in reeking ball, Marie was lounging at the kitchen table with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup residing on a paper towel. When Vale too sat down, the woman pushed the bowl over to him with a smile. A glass of orange juice was not far behind.

Vale had never been so thankful towards one person in his entire life.

The next morning he found scratches on his legs and chest, as well as some bite marks. It was surprising and just as frightening as the day before, and he had to wrap them up as well. His whole body ached, but messing around with Darren and the other kids was a nice distraction. Isabel taught him a little Spanish—mainly curse words. Matt tried yet again to beat the level in that videogame later in the afternoon. Vale wondered how pathetic he must have looked if Matt was willing to scare himself in order to distract him.

That night he didn't sleep. The monster stayed away.

So, with this in mind, he spent the next week trying not to sleep at all. Which was okay. He was okay.

Eighth week, fifth day. Lea sketched and shaded brown bottles and medicine containers all over the pages of a brand new sketchbook. She unabashedly pulled out a small plastic case filled with watercolors and painted her art right before their stunned eyes, dipping her brush in her water bottle as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He stared at the page as she painted to her heart's content, the world blurring around the edges.

Vale woke up one morning and realized that not seeing the monster was worse than seeing him all the time. At least then he knew when he was coming. His wrists dripping blood and the bruises trailing down his throat attested to it.

God, he hated turtlenecks, this had to _end_.

Lea smiled a sad smile and asked him if he understood yet.

He spent English class trying to keep his connection the redhead, odd shapes and colors floating just inside his field of vision. They did their best to blur and confuse him every time they spun his way, and he worked hard not to flinch back and hide with them so close. His breathing rose, anxiety tightening his throat in their hold, and he practiced all the breathing exercises he had ever learned. Unexpectedly, Lea gave a sharp tug, demanded his attention. He locked his bewildered eyes onto hers as angry whispers roared to life.

She looked directly at the shapes and grinned.

When his dad gave him his medicine the next day, Vale pretended to swallow in front of his cautious eyes. He waited patiently till the man left to spit out the contents of his mouth. _The coast was clear._ Vale thought he might have finally _understood_ what Lea had been trying to tell him. She was weird, yeah, and he had no idea how she knew, but he trusted her not to steer him wrong. He just hoped he could trust himself.

* * *

"Vale! Vale, wake up! Valentine, you have to breathe!"

A pillow smacked him in the face and suddenly he was sitting up, nearly conking his head on Lea's in his haste to be up, up out of the darkness, away from-

Harsh panting escaped him as he patted himself down. His chest burned, like he really hadn't been breathing, and his panicked gaze settled on Lea. His little sister was wide-eyed and pale, actual tears in her eyes as she stared at him with a combination of determination and fear.

"Le?" he croaked.

"You fell asleep right after we got home," she explained quickly, reading the question from his face alone. "Even though it's the middle of the day. I didn't want to bother you 'cause you've been so tired, but then you started screaming, so I came in to wake you up, but then you weren't screaming anymore, but you weren't breathing either, so-" Lea broke off to take a deep breath. "So I hit you in the face with a pillow."

Vale raked his fingers through his hair, then reached for her and pulled her into his lap. Lea rubbed his back in an attempt to help, so he pillowed his cheek atop his little sister's head.

His gaze fell on the textbook he had open on his bed - he'd been doing homework, studying, getting ready for the upcoming break - and the notebook beside it. His history notes stared back at him, a little sloppy from where he'd started falling asleep probably, but then…

Vale's eyes narrowed and he shifted Lea so he could hold onto her with one arm as he reached for the notebook. He examined them like a child does to a dead butterfly. It was his handwriting, but it was messy and harsh and frantic and not his handwriting in some areas. American History bleeding into _go away go away go away go away he's in me what do I do? what do I do? get out get out get out get out leave me alone help me help me heLP ME HELP ME HELP ME NO ONE'S COMING FOR YOU-_

Vale threw it across the room so it banged against the wall and fell to the floor, open so the words he didn't remember writing faced the ceiling. He and Lea stared at it, both clinging to each other.

* * *

Julian had been trying to reassure himself that everything would turn out fine, that Vale was just passing for a very stressful period. It had to be expected, but it was only a rough patch. With time, everything would have returned to normal…or as normal as their situation could possibly be.

Those hopes were quickly dashed when his daughter came to him one day and uttered a sentence that chilled him to the bone:

"We're sick. I think we're dying."

* * *

He was breaking, he could tell. He got to his feet to pace his room, catching sight of the notebook that he still clutched like a lifeline. He'd hid his notebook from himself to keep from ruining the pages with the insane scrawl since he wanted there to be a day where Lea could read through it freely (as she'd asked) without coming across frantic thoughts like the ones filling some pages now. In the end he had taken it back.

_I can't do this. I can't do this. Make it stop. I just want it to stop. It hurts. I can't sleep because it hurts. Don't let me fall asleep. Don't. Don't. It hurts. In my head. He's in there. Make it stop. Make it stop make it stop it hurts iT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP._

There were more. Notes scattered throughout the pages, some from himself and some...not.

"We need to talk."

Even though her voice was soft, it still made him jump about three feet. And he dropped his notebook. Heart racing, Vale placed his palm over it and tried to calm down.

"God, Mom! You scared me." he panted out, a hand over his heart to calm its frantic beating. She gave him a minute to recover then went straight to the point.

"I'd like for you to explain to me why you haven't been sleeping."

"I have been. Some. When I can," he muttered.

"Vale, I was researching sleeplessness with teenagers-"

"Mom, please-"

"-and I came across quite a bit of research that links insomnia with depression, anxiety disorders, and panic disorders-"

"I'm not-"

"Now, I know you're prone to panic attacks and that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. I only want to make sure they aren't getting worse," she finished, shoulders sagging and Vale realized that she looked almost as weary as he did.

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

"One."

She nodded to herself, rubbing her brow tiredly. "And the night before that?"

Vale swallowed thickly, then murmured, "None."

"You've been having nightmares almost every night for a month." She searched his gaze. "Valentine, I just want to help you."

His lip quivered as he fought back tears. "You can't." at her sharp inhale, he clarified. "No one can. He won't leave me alone. It's been happening since I got here and I don't know what to do." he finally said. "But you can do nothing. That's...That's why I didn't want to tell you. I'm sorry."

* * *

Sharing a room with his brother for seven and a half years had taught Matt how to deal with many things. Especially when it came to Vale's sleeping habits, which included snoring, muttering, and all the fumbling racket of failed attempts at sneaking out for something without waking the older brother. But, none of that had taught him how to deal with the restless sleep of a panicked pyrokinetic.

Only an hour later, he woke to a room lit in hellish orange.

His first and only warning was a soft cry. A sound so faint only his habit of training himself so he could be at Vale's side after a nightmare brought him out of his exhausted sleep. But not fast enough. By the time he opened his eyes, the room was already awash in flames.

**~~~~Rêver~~~**

Darkness. Silence. He was lying on what was no way his bed. It felt rough like stone. _'What on Earth? Where am I?'_ His head was throbbing, and everything ached. Feeling around tentatively with his hands, he felt cold stone when he pressed down. His breathing quickened as he stood to look around. He was inside the lair, a much too familiar sight.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Vale was aware of a presence behind him and a volt of fear shot through his chest so intense that he was paralyzed for a moment, unaware of anything else. His surroundings, the darkness, the ceiling, the ground - he couldn't hear anything, couldn't think - all he knew was that he had found him, was standing behind him, was looking right at him, was about to pounce and Vale was utterly helpless. Before he could think, before he could even turn around to face the demon he knew was there, a harrowing scream tore from his throat followed by yet more piercing screams of sheer terror - but he still couldn't move. He didn't turn to face his ultimate fear, the one who had brought him so much pain and misery, who had torn his life apart.

Fueled by the immediate reaction, his wings unfurled, although Vale couldn't for the life of him tell in what way they would be helpful.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. He had finally arrived home. Here he had always been safe, been valued and even loved, away from the horrors his so-called 'father' had inflicted upon him. The monsters were never supposed to be here. And yet they - he - had seeped in, through the nightmares and now through…through what?

Vale felt like screaming till his lungs were empty, like running and running as fast as he could until this feeling of helplessness was well and truly worn out. But he couldn't; he found himself standing in shock, trying to fend off the impending tears that he resented so much.

"What are you doing here?" he managed to say once he could muster the self control to turn. His head was spinning. This was a dream, right? It would be like last time. Belloc couldn't hurt him...

Right?

"I just wanted to see you." Belloc answered, gaze continuously going over Vale's wings, which were giving faint flaps, ready to burst into action at any given moment.

Vale looked at him and shivered when he found only bitter resentment and a hatred he didn't understand. Vale didn't know why it was targeted towards him, but it was there and it made Belloc's eyes dark and wild. Vale felt his heart kick into high gear, racing fast enough that he thought it was in his throat, beating hard enough to choke him.

What terrified him the most was the hunger in his look; it was the bare, feral, starving rapacity of a pure predator that had just been granted license to attack and consume its long desired prey.

Those eyes dared him to rebel, to disobey in any way. Those eyes screamed for punishment, for pain. But _why?_

"Are you here to convince me to go back? Save your breath, I will never go back there. You a…you hurt me." Darren had used the word 'abuse' quite a few times, but Vale still wasn't sure if this was what it was. "For no reason." Vale shook his head, blond tresses swinging into his suddenly blurry vision. He couldn't breathe. "And I don't understand why."

"Of course you don't. You never do, even when it's obvious what you've done wrong."  
Vale opened his mouth to argue about the unfairness of that statement, but immediately shrank back when his father growled and began to stalk forward.

"Want to argue, huh?"

Vale scrambled backwards, wings arching anxiously. He immediately went into panic mode as Belloc lunged forwards aggressively. Vale screamed in terror as Belloc swiped and grabbed hold of him, even as the boy turned to run.

"No!" Panic had control of his motions now. He was twisting, screaming furtively; wings flapping and beating behind him. Belloc had a firm grip on the boy's ankle and, with one swift tug, he pulled the struggling boy across beneath him. Unexpectedly for him, the new angle had the Kaiju's head at the mercy of the rapidly beating wings.

"Let go!" Vale reached forward, clawing at the ground. His wings were still straining outrageously, striking Belloc in the face with each frantic beat.

"These stupid wings!"

Roaring, Belloc released the boy's ankle and backed away as the bony forearm of one wing clipped his cheek. Immediately Vale sprung forward, scrambling to his feet, and ran. He flung his head around, eyes wide as his father leveled a look so deadly at him he knew he was in for a world of pain if Belloc got his hands on him again. As the Kaiju moved forwards, Vale took up speed and jumped, wings unfurling to catch the air. But then suddenly there wasn't enough room to maneuver; he slammed into a wall, small disfigured wings attempting to pump harder, hands scrabbling at the rock in an effort to stay airborne.

His wings had carried him away from the Kaiju, but they couldn't fly him out of this mess. Where could he even go? He felt frantic, unable to comprehend what was happening or even to think about where he was trying to escape to. Anywhere but here…

His ankle was grabbed again, and brute force ripped the boy's body from the air, hurling him onto the ground. Vale let out a cry as a heavy weight settled over the back of his legs. He was on his stomach, and his hands reached out in front of him, desperate for escape he knew would never be achieved. Anxiously, his wings still beat the air. He tried to stop them, but terror had him in its claws now. He couldn't think properly, much less find control over appendages he had already been struggling to master.

With a snarl, Belloc grabbed the frantic wings together in one hand. There was no stopping it. Valentine knew this, yet he couldn't help but try to placate the obviously angered demon sitting on his legs.

"No, please don't. Not this. Please stop!"

"Too late for that. You just keep making it worse for yourself. Proving my point…" He fisted the wings tighter and Vale let out a cry. "If I were you, I'd stop talking. Stop talking, because the more I hear the more I want to make you scream."

The boy's body trembled as sobs racked up from his insides, making him feel sick; his wings- ever traitorous to his desires- jerked vainly in the vice-like grip.

A low growl barely reached his ears. "Stop trying to get away."

"I'm not!" The squeaked denial had come automatically.

"Maybe I should just tear your wings off, hmm?"

Vale's heart stopped. What had Belloc just said? Tear his- His eyes widened, body grew cold at the very idea. Even his wings froze. He wouldn't...

"As soon as I really get my hands on you, you're never leaving. It's pointless to have wings; you'll never be allowed to fly away."

"No-" Horror such as he had never felt before had frozen him. Words escaped him. "You- you _wouldn't_-"

"Oh wouldn't I?" Vale could almost picture the smirk that must certainly covered Belloc's face.

One of the large hands shifted to clench his left wing closed, gripping it close to the base where it connected to his back, right by his shoulder blade. Vale's heart dropped down to his stomach and a cold fear gripped him.

"No, no!" Panic. Pure panic filled him, erasing all reason and logic from his mind. Only the feel of that menacing hand holding his wing, threatening to tear it out of his flesh, remained. His body moved, thrashing wildly as new tears of helplessness stung his eyes.

"Stop struggling." He said softly, in his ear. "You know I hate it when you try to run away." A deafening roar had started in his ears, filling the room with thunder.

"Dad, please, think about this!" His heart was hammering, surely hard enough that it would burst from his chest.

"There's nothing _to_ think about. I've made my decision."

"This isn't something you can just do on a whim! Once you do this to me, it can never be undone. Chains come with a key; but my wings will never grow back." Hearing the words out loud had panic clawing at his insides again. His lips trembled as he struggled to hold back hysterical screams. "Please, I'll do anything, but not this." Tears started falling- he couldn't help it. "Not this. Name it, anything you want. I won't use my wings, I won't even open them. I'll let you do anything you want to me. Whatever! I don't care, just please. Please."

Belloc would have never guessed himself to be someone that enjoyed control. Having the teen utterly at his mercy was wonderfully gratifying, his impatience only amplifying his excitement to the point of wanting to defile the boy beyond any hope of redemption.

A monster at a banquet was bound to be wild and completely uncontrollable, to satisfy every desire, and indulge every single whim with reckless abandon.

But, when hunger was sated, there was always greed.

Belloc's grip tightened so much that it felt like he was pulling the wing from Vale's back already, and the boy panicked anew. His legs kicked, body thrashed, fingers scrambled uselessly at the hard ground he was pressed against. The exact same actions, repeated numerous times for lack of a better option, even though it was clear by now there was absolutely nothing Vale could do.

"No, don't- it hurts. It hurts! Please! Let go!"

His cries only seemed to make the large hand tighten further on his wing. Responding to the tug, Vale's torso lifted from the ground, arching back even as he twisted fitfully. In his thrashing, his right wing had knocked the other hand away, freeing it to beat frantically at his side, but almost immediately Belloc's empty hand slapped down on the free wing, pinning it to Vale's back and forcing the boy's upper body back into the ground. The position smothered the scream that had torn from the boy's throat as the wing bent to his body unnaturally.

"Why?" was his question as he gasped for air. His hands reached behind himself, clinging desperately to the large hand that cruelly still gripped his left wing. He couldn't see through the tears. Pain spiked through his shoulders.

"You disgusting halfbreed, how dare you ask me that?!" Vale couldn't do anything but cry out as the pain increased. "You should know what you have done. You are a murderer. You killed Margaret." The words were practically dripping with venom. "It's only fair that you get what you deserve."

The boy went further down as Belloc shifted, putting more weight on the hand that pressed the boy's right wing to his back and earning a fresh cry of pain from him. His other hand pulled slightly, grip tightening on the crumpled left wing.

_'He's right'_ thought Vale hazily _'I did kill her when I was born'_. Another spike of pain, and Vale was suddenly aware of a smell that paralyzed him. A bitter smell which, even if usually so familiar, was always absolutely horrid.

Blood.

_'I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die._' He started thinking almost deliriously as the pain he was in grew to unbearable levels. He sobbed and screamed, the pain he felt far worse than anything he could imagine. Each cell of his was crying out in pain, making his body shake uncontrollably as he wished for nothing more than to just pass out and wait out whatever else that monster had planned for him.

He couldn't handle it, it was too much, it was too much, too much.

His vision was white and a roaring was in his ears. The boy immediately curled up, almost in shock at not having any physical pain. No more pain. Belloc had stopped. No, he was just pausing to make him think it was over. Had to be.

A hand touched him and Vale pressed his wings against his back as tightly as he could. The cry jerked out of him as if the sound itself had been the thing that had been almost ripped apart of him.

There was that touch again, and he could feel his wings pressing into his back, inside him, his panic quickly escalating. The first times started like this, a twisted parody of affection. Vale was startled not to be slipping on the ground; there had to have been blood. It couldn't have been so painful without being torn. Couldn't have been.

He pictured blood, copious amounts of red that soaked his body and pooled around him. Panic as intense as flames flickered through him and he fell backwards into the bed with a soft grunt. His body felt like lead and he swore he could feel blood. He swore his skin had been serrated, and his panic grew tenfold.

For the briefest of moments he felt as though every vein in his body was beginning to pop and explode beneath his skin. Every bone had pinpricks of pain and felt as if they were twisting. His blood boiled and his mind scrambled for anything to help steady him. His lungs refused to work for a moment, feeling as if someone had just thrown him underwater. He could feel the sheets growing soaked with his blood, becoming soiled and weighing the mattress beneath him.

It was slow and dragging out inside of him, his mind seemingly flailing, incoherent and babbling something that sounded like his blood bubbling with his breath. He swore he could feel the tendons in his throat, flexing and drowning. His heart skipped and jolted, struggling, and his bones felt as if they were breaking again.

Eventually he could make out a voice from among the roar. A voice he recognized. His vision slowly cleared and he found himself face to face with green eyes lined with worry. Vale looked up at Julian in confusion.

Where was he? How…how were his wings even able to _move_? What had happened?

Slowly he ran his eyes across the room. His sheets were little more that ashes, and the rest of his family stood a little distance away, watching him fixedly. The bed was merely warm. It was not the least bit wet. And he could not feel any pain anywhere. His mind slowed from its race and fell into a slow jog. It tried to recount the situation but failed miserably for a moment.

And finally it hit him.

_It was a dream…_

"What happened Valen?" Julian asked, taking care to be gentle, to leave any anxiety or insistence out of his voice.

_A nightmare…_

Vale took a trembling breath, and appeared to be pushing himself up to it, but then caved in on himself and shook his head. "I… I can't say. I'm sorry. I can't."

Horrific memories flooded his head. Hands holding him in place, unable to get away, unable to breath, no one there to save him, and the pain shot through him as though it were happening all over again – only now he couldn't fight back. The emotions tore through him like a tsunami, crushing, consuming his whole body. And then he was gone. Only the pain from years of abuse was there now, and he was so utterly lost.

Vale looked as though he was torn between trying to make a run for it and starting to fight. To Julian's surprise Vale didn't attempt to run or fight, he simply nodded a little before uttering brokenly, "He…he wanted to... I couldn't...couldn't get away..." and then he burst into tears.

He covered his face with his hands and sobbed harshly, uncontrollably. Julian's heart shattered to see Valentine like this, it was so wrong, it was like all the color had faded out of his world.  
Julian, with his hands still planted protectively on Vale's shoulders, pulled the boy into his chest before closing his arms tightly around him and rocking him gently as he wept. Ignoring the rest of their family who now came forwards to offer comfort, he brought a hand up to stroke Vale's hair and whispered reassurances to the boy, whose resolve had now completely crumbled and whose small, fragile form now heaved with loud, long, heartbreaking sobs that seemed as though they would last forever.

"It's ok Valen. Shh. It's ok. I'm here."

* * *

**Ta-dah! I'll probably get hate-mail for what I just wrote, but I did say we were getting to the bottom of the 'dark' didn't I?Hope you brought a flashlight! *crackles*. Excuse me, I'm in a weird mood today.**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	31. Confess your sins

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter! And so, we continue with this tale. Onward!**

* * *

Vale felt something wet on his face. He was crying. Oh, god. Nothing was ever going to make this go away, was it? He would never get over this; there would be the one part of his life he'd lived before this, and then there would be someone else living a completely different existence afterward. He wouldn't get it back. Ever.

_Don't say that._

_It doesn't matter._

_Nothing truly happened._

**_Nothing at all._**

Looking at it now, the 2-week-suspension he had to face for fighting in the school was a complete blessing, in Vale's opinion. He wouldn't be able to stay civil, he knew that, the sick (now receding, thank God) ache in his head knew that, saw that. He'd snap, there would be a row, and someone would end up hurt again. And where would he be? Alice without her cat, no white rabbit, but a Queen of Hearts. Off with his head!

They were in the middle of May, a bad time for a suspension, but Vale didn't mind that at all. He was just content for this well-timed moment of peace, when he could begin to put his act together, to get a hold of himself. Still the nights was when his fears prey on him, the world becoming a nightmare of shadows and whispers and forever. Though she helps. Somehow, she helps.

Even if things had changed, it was only one change that concerned and frightened him most of all. Lea had become unbelievably clingy, hanging unto him with a sort of desperation that was almost frightening, and it was extremely difficult for her to let go.

He remembered telling them the story (what had happened to him those years, how he felt, why didn't he say anything), day after day; relentlessly pushing his fear and horror inside Lea, without meaning to, over and over and over again. She, along with their family, listened as he allowed his wings to close, regardless of the wound that had formed when the appendages burst outside too quick. She listened as their mother threw together some food and made him eat. She listened as she lay beside him in bed, what felt like night after night but was only hours, lights blazing because he could not stand the shadows, even though she liked to sleep in the dark, holding him close when the fear was too much to bear, or when the tears would not stop. He talked and talked for day and days, purging himself of the memories. He brought his fear and horror into the unsullied peaceful sanctuary they mentally shared, because he didn't know what else to do with them. She saw the things that he had seen, even as he described them. She felt the things he felt and could not describe. His sister willingly swallowed his contaminated memories up as rapidly as he regurgitated them. She absorbed the fear that possessed him even as he exuded it. She took his gruesome, mercilessly relentless nightmares inside herself over and over again.

He had never meant to do it. He had only tried to keep her safe, never telling. But he supposed there had to be a price to pay for all his lies. Now, as then, it's simple truth, sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!

Strange, isn't it? That such a quietly brutal, relentless act of rape could be considered harmless just because it was unintentional.

And yet, she loved him. Adored him the same way as always.

_I never meant to do it. I honestly had no idea._

And she loved him too much to tell him to stop or to let him know how much he was unwittingly hurting her. Sure, he had noticed at one point and stopped the flow of memories the best he could, but what little had leaked out had obviously left its mark on the girl the young hybrid had tried so hard to protect.

To think…to think he had only found out the true damage of it a day after all that, both of them back-to-back again, and the boy had been jolted out of his peaceful nap by Lea heaving a sob and turning to him before hugging him desperately, fearfully. The complete picture came with a sense of _'you're safe you're safe'_ that most definitely did not originate from him, and lastly the memory in question, which left him wanting to gag at the mere thought of his little sister seeing it, experiencing it.

"I love you," she had choked, fingers gripping his shirt tightly, afraid he'd disappear. "More than anything in the world."

The boy had held her in return, vision blurry from the tears that were running down his cheeks and landing on his sister's head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _I'm sorry._"

Later on that morning, Matt had returned from a friend's house, mind buzzing with the info dump they had done. He had entered the house with a booming hello, and was caught completely off guard when his only answer was a loud wail coming from his room.

Matt was up the stairs before his conscious mind could fully process it. Inside the room, his eyes were drawn to his brother's form –his sister in another room with their father-, seemingly unaware of their mother's attempts to get closer, whispering an endless mantra of 'I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm so sorry'.

His mother had finally reached him and squeezed him close to her torso when the child threw himself in her arms and screamed. It wasn't until hours later than Vale had been able to shakily explain what had happened, blaming himself the entire time. As soon as he explained his point of view their family had tried to comfort him, telling him it wasn't his fault, that nobody knew much what their connection involved, and he was certainly not to blame if he wasn't in the best state of mind after what happened. It was an accident, they said.

Eventually, he listened.

Vale sighed as he desperately wished he had been more coherent, enough to realize what was truly going on. It certainly did his sister no good. Even now, she still couldn't fully accept that those memories were not hers, but his.

* * *

That they had gone back to the quasi-normal relationship the two had had, now that was something that baffled Vale and delighted Lea. In her mind, as horrible as the memories were, she had asked for them, and now at least she had an inkling of what –her brother? Herself?- had gone through. She could finally be there for him, like it always should be.

They had grown up together for the most part, laughed, cried, played and slept together, usually huddled as close as possible for warmth.

And they were both scared, traumatized little children struggling to survive in a harsh world neither of them fully understood. It had bred monsters in both of them. Unfortunately, Vale's monster had always been stronger.

As close as the siblings were, there were parts of the boy that Lea could never fully understand. He was her other half, but had been forced to grow up so much faster than she.

As in right now, two days after the night that shook her world's pillars of support, she was cuddling against her fair-haired brother, the black-haired one snoring softly a bit away from them. She knew of Vale's reluctance of letting her sleep with him –and it wasn't particularly the bed getting a tad too small- but she also knew that it would help him in the long run. She didn't want her brother tortured by memories or visions. That had been horrible enough on its own, and Lea didn't want it to happen again if she could help it.

He was wearing green pajamas and had been wide awake when the girl had gathered the courage to go to his room, pleading he wouldn't turn her down. She was wearing her favorite pajama. It was light blue, rather old, and slightly faded. She got under the covers and hugged him lightly.

He returned her embrace willingly. This time, Lea was the one who surprised him, dusting swift, nervous little kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, and he stopped her before she did something that would strike ever her as odd.

"Didn't Mom and Dad tell you to try sleep in your own bed a while ago?" he asked, only saying something to quell that silence. Lea snorted a bit and gave him a slightly irritated look.

"Bite me. No, no, wait, wait, you actually might..." she backtracked, her emerald eyes triumphant when a small chuckle escaped him, dark eyes amused.

"You know you shouldn't play with monsters," he said absently, a small swirl of smoke coming through his lips and vanishing.

She stared at him in silence for a full heartbeat. And then she laughed.

"How silly you are sometimes." She said. "Didn't you know? You are not a monster, you are my big brother."

"I might still bite you, you know," he warned her.

"Try it. I'll bite you right back." She said, confidence filling her expression as she shifted in the covers to look up at him, golden heads in the same pillow (or golden and yellowish orange, but Lea didn't like technicalities).

"Can you really bite, Lele?" he leaned closer, his eyes shifting to glowing green."Are your teeth sharp enough?"

She looked up at him. He was watching her, a half smile on his lips. She wondered at the strange look in his eyes. It was almost scary. But she was not afraid of him. He was just her big brother, being weird again.

"I'll sharpen them if I have to."

He blinked at her, looking oddly startled, then his smile widened. A soft chuckle escaped him, followed, before long, by quiet, intense laughter.

"You think you're funny?" a question punctuated by not-yet-fading chuckles, making his chest vibrate.

"I think I'm adorable." The redhead girl shot right back at him, the cheekiest of grins in her face.

"These small teeth of yours," he said, "Be sure to sharpen them, Lea. You are going to need them soon enough."

"It's late," He observed after a pause. "You should sleep now."

"I'm not sleepy." she replied promptly.

He shifted, lifted her chin up, and studied her face intently.

"You are. You eyes are heavy."

"No they aren't." She insisted.

"They are heavy. Mine are too. Go to sleep."

* * *

_Clear mind. Blank slate. Encase your mind in an impenetrable wall._

He repeated the basic instructions over and over in his mind like a mantra. He used to do this all the time when his father took away his food as punishment. He could walk around in a mental bubble for days before the hunger caught up with him.

_Think darkness. Punches. Hunger so intense it feels like your stomach is eating your backbone. Fear. Pain._

"Come on," he whispered as he dredged up some of his worst memories. The familiar bubble enveloped his mind like a blanket. There. There, a temporary defense, until he felt protected enough to continue with the task that had been interrupted.

_-uly wish I was the boy they all seem to see. But I will not lie. I am not. I only pretend to be._

_I know it. My sister knows it._

_She knows I'm not the quiet, harmless boy who everyone sees._

_She knows because she sees him, trying to take over me. Murderous. So subtly sometimes it is difficult to discern between the two of us._

_The only difference between the two is that **he** does not lie to himself. He accepts who he is, while I cannot accept **him**._

_He exists, inside me, as strongly as she does. I am not sure when he appeared. Perhaps he had always been there, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. At other times it occurs to me he must have anchored in me there; in the labyrinthine depths of that temporary Hell; stayed in the outpouring of tears and blood, of fear and death, no sky or sun._

_I hate him, as intensely and illogically someone like me can hate._

_Or rather, more honestly, he frightens me. Especially now…_

_He was quiet before. He barely existed those days, so long ago, when I was the troubling but carefree almost innocent son of the Whites, before I knew who I really a-_

It was a coping mechanism, really.

In ink, with mines, in cursive, in capital letters, in low case letters, first person, second, third. Commas, periods, swirls against previously blank paper forming letters, words transforming into sentences before his very eyes.

Writing was a wonderful thing, truly. The little leather-bound notebook contained all the things he didn't want to tell and some he did. It was so much easier that way, the words flowing freely from his mind to the paper, his hand a medium between them.

Only two months after he had received it, and it was almost full already. In nights that made him restless and afraid, he'd write and write again and again until he could see just words, and could interpret the string of sentences as something happening in a book, in faraway places, no names. It helped. Somehow.

Then his latest nightmare came, and fourteen pages were filled to the brim in his first retell, and more and more and more, and he had to snatch a pencil and one or two pens to keep sure he didn't ran out of material to write.

Afterwards…

He wouldn't call it happy, but he felt lighter like Hercules after Atlas re-shouldered the world.

* * *

This wasn't how Vale had planned to spend his evening, but he was stuck in the house either way with his suspension so he supposed he welcomed the unexpected company. Plus, when Darren came pounding on his front door (much in the way a police officer would, Vale made a note to talk to Darren later about trying not to sound like SWAT coming to break your door down), it was clear the other boy needed some help.

Darren had spilled everything out, how his guardian had failed to return home, how the boy had waited andwaited _andwaitedandwaitedbutwhatwasthepoint_ how scared he was that something had happened to him –all that he told Lea, because Vale honestly had too much on his plate and he preferred to listen but not being him the one to offer answers, all the same.

Later, though, after the Kaiju boy had gotten everything out of his chest, Lea had gone upstairs –perhaps to draw or to read or just to leave the two alone- and Darren had looked at him for a while (ignoring the way his eyes were fixed on the notebook, a clear message of 'leave me alone') and then uttered something.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

The rasping sound of pen on paper stopped.

Vale was frozen. No. Not like this, _please_ not like this.

How did one begin a conversation like this?

How did you tell your best friend that someone had broken into your house once, attempting to kidnap you and then left without you, without a clear motive to do so?

How did you tell your best friend that that person had managed to bring you to a place where no one could reach you but him?

How did you go about saying that this someone had given you thoughts of death that you couldn't explain?

How did you casually mention that you thought you were going insane because he had managed to twist your mind so well that you had actually thought you were dying? That he had drawn you into such a hallucination that you truly thought that you could feel your blood leaving your body?

How did you tell your best friend that that same someone had almost broken your mind?

How did you tell your best friend that?

And, more importantly, was it even actually a good idea to do so?

The smaller teen turned his head and stared at him in confusion. For a moment he had nothing to say, his mind completely blank as the image there shattered and fled. And then he debated for a long minute and a half as their eyes locked. He searched his face for some kind of hint of what to do and found nothing.

Did he tell him? Did he actually open his mouth and bother with spilling that little secret about his father?

Did he truly put to words the anxiety that his entire existence brought him?

Did he even have the right to tell him about all of this?

And if he did, _how_ exactly did he begin?

There was something inside of him that recoiled and twisted and burned at the mere thought of sharing that with him (even though his family knew, he hadn't been in his right state of mind. That didn't count to him). That..thing inside him screamed a persistent roar of "no" and said to let him keep his little secret. It wasn't like they could do anything, after all.

But maybe…

Maybe it was time to challenge the persistent fear that accompanied that same kind of thoughts. Nobody was stopping him after all. Nobody, nobody was threatening to hurt him…

To kill him, to tear him apart _just like his win-_

_**No.**_ It was such an...impossible thing to even think. His mind wouldn't even let him understand, completely, what it meant. That was as far as his thoughts could go before they simply refused to go any further.

The thing that mattered the most in this, is that Vale had his word, he would not harm the others…

So then, should he follow his instinct or should he tell, this time consciously, willingly?

"You don't have to tell me right now." Darren's voice shook him out of his thoughts. "Isabel and Kenny are coming here in a while. They're curious as well."

Vale was grateful he didn't say anything about him spacing out, not allowed himself to be ashamed to be caught in _flagrante delito. _Those minutes he still had, he'd use them.

* * *

When Isabel had heard the news Valentine was in suspension for fighting, she didn't believe it. When she came over to his house and found his little sister with a somber expression, she was even more skeptical.

When the redheaded girl came closer and told her she was going to show her a secret, she listened, because she was curious and allowed herself to distract from the purpose of her visit.

Isabel took her time to inspect the room, curious as to how the only little girl would have it. It was small but very luminous, the walls a deep red and decorated with some posters of animes (some of which she was familiar with) and what she could guess were Lea's own drawings, if the mess of pencils and brushes scattered on the floor was anything to go by.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Isabel asked, genuinely curious. Lea and her had gotten along, sure, but there was getting along, and there was showing you a secret.

"I just thought this would interest you." Lea replied uneasily, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She knew that Kaiju were something you didn't talk about, a taboo if you will. "And I wanted to share this with someone," she kneeled down, her back to the older girl, her 'secret' between her hands.

Lea wondered why there were some taboo things. Wouldn't it be better if they were discussed, so people would have at least an idea? She remembered the day she had looked up from something she was reading at breakfast –she didn't remember what book, exactly- and saying, "What's _rimming?"_ and Matt spewing orange juice over his younger brother. Vale'd tried to get the book from him, curious as well Lea supposed, but Matt had confiscated it.

And she still didn't know the meaning of that word.

Lea turned around and showed Isabel her pet, thankful that Kobu was outside. She didn't need the dog freaking out over Mee again. The brown-haired girl gasped at the animal.

"It's a Gomorradon!" she gushed, grinning. "Unreal!"

"His name's Mee," Lea explained, holding it close. "Found him following me one day and decided to keep him. My dog doesn't like him very much." She grimaced, remembering one or two memorable occasions. "He hasn't tried to go, so I have no reason to do so. And he hasn't hurt anyone, so don't have to tell my brothers." She finished, but couldn't find it in herself to be bitter with them. Not with what had transpired only a few days ago.

Isabel didn't comment on her choice, something which the young girl was very grateful. "So, how's your project going?" she asked, referring to something Isabel worked on her free time.

Isabel frowned. "The only thing I've been able to deduce is that the disappearances that are happening have been for quite a while. Perhaps even before the war." The girl trailed off.

Lea started, not expecting that. "Wait, what?"

The girl continued, pleased that she had someone to discuss those things with. "I started this little project because the numbers just didn't add up. Last week, I finally pried some numbers out of Barnes. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he's with MEGTAF, though that can be cos I already knew. Honestly, I think he told me just to shut me up. It didn't work. Anyhow, he told me 4623 people perished during the war."

"That many?" Lea interrupted, letting Mee jump to the floor.

"According to a census, they had 76 429 inhabitants, most of them evacuated. This year, there are 257 students attending the school. There should be more people who lost a parent, sibling, or grandparent to the war. Especially in our town and the proximities. Instead, I only have Kenny's mom."

Lea grimaced at the new tidbit of information.

"I went to the library for more data, and found last century's census. This is when things get interesting. People have always disappeared in this town and some others close to it. Apparently, no one noticed until some idiot checked their census data expecting to find 2,713 people in our town and only found 1,456. I say idiot because instead of checking the previous censuses to see if they even had a record of the missing people, which they didn't, they marked everyone as presumed dead. Incidentally, this is their standing policy for the last century, which means all that data I spent weeks digging through is absolutely USELESS!" the girl exploded.

Lea didn't bother to follow that train of thought. She wasn't very good with numbers.

"Now, I thought that perhaps not all those people died, but maybe some of them left. It would be impossible for that many people to die without causing mass hysteria. But what about the 20s, 30s, 50s, 60s, 70s, and on and on? We weren't at war then, so why did they leave? Or why did they die?"

"So all the disappearances have happened since… always." Lea grimaced, noting that Isabel didn't tell her how much time had passed for that many people to go missing. "It only is noticeable now."

* * *

Vale had come downstairs for a glass of water when he heard the door opening again. Grimacing slightly, the blond boy waited until he heard two pair of feet going upstairs, and even then a bit more. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to move, with the amount of dread that he associated with telling.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't stupid.

Contrary to popular belief, he also wasn't a warrior.

He had stayed alive –it was simply a genetic prerogative. Him or them.

The pulse in his throat almost obstructed his breathing. Minutes passed. Vale found he could move again.

But now that was worse.

When he could gather enough control to trudge up the stairs, a soft-almost-inaudible murmur distracted him halfway up.

_"Don't let the wolf into your bed  
He'll break your soul then eat your head…_

_He brings the whirling deep in your heart  
Then sings as twirling demons of dark  
To take you down beneath the ridge  
To where is found his silent bridge_

_No don't let the wolf creep in your door  
He'll take you in sleep to his chamber of horror  
Are you dreaming?  
No use pleading  
Are you dreaming?  
He'll soon be feeding…"_

Vale would never admit to be scared. What he did admit is the sight of his elder brother singing to himself as he read a book was quite disturbing.

"That lullaby is seriously creepy," the half-Kaiju muttered, looking away when Matt met his gaze. "Please don't sing it. I'm serious." Then, a bit more teasingly, "You know your voice is awful."

Matt chose not to answer, smiling self-deprecatingly at him. It prompted Vale to try to smile back, but it came out lopsided and halfhearted, as if he just didn't have the energy.

"You alright?" the black-haired boy asked, searching his face for any sights of distress. The little brother nodded. "Your friends are in your room, Goldilocks." He added, trying to get a reaction. _Now that I know what's wrong, I'll try to help you. I know I'll screw up. But I'll keep trying as long as you let me._

"Alright then... jerk."

"Bitch." Matt shot right back, glad that he had risen to the bait. He returned to his book for a minute or two.

A few days ago, Matt had been having a strange feeling of uneasiness. On the one hand it felt like nothing was changing anymore, like the entire world was frozen. And on the other it felt like something big was going to happen. Something spectacular. His ears were ringing with the sound of an orchestra tuning the instruments in preparation for a symphony. Maddening!

Or his personal favorite analogy, he could almost hear the chess pieces being put into place. From upstairs, he could hear a shout.

"Dude, I'm okay! I'm okay! I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches."

Matt smiled slightly as he turned the page. His little brother would be alright. He just needed a little push.

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers. You storyteller has managed to continue this. HOORAY!**

**Um, forgive me about the numbers and such if there's something wrong. Numbers...aren't my forte. Um... yeah, Vale still isn't quite alright.**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	32. That which we are

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter! And so, we continue with this tale. Onward!**

* * *

After a minute of wandering aimlessly through endless caves and corridors, he made himself stop.

But what would happen if he found someone? Most of the loyal Kaiju-he had no worries about taking them out, magicless or otherwise. But the King... if he couldn't get the drop on Belloc, and the older Kaiju took _him_ out, then there would be no one else coming to help. Nobody to really who was that…lunatic who had been ruling them for years. And he even had the proof right in the form of Belloc's son.

Slow down. Think.

He _had_ to get help.

But that meant he had to get _out._

He'd never been there. Seven years of not putting feet in a place will make your memories fuzzy. And this section was intended to get you lost and confused.

Escaping. Ha. It was not a piece of cake, despite the fact that the little prince doing so had lowered his expectation on how high the security around prison cells had been. It had taken a while, but he was finally, almost out.

He doubled a corner-

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Fuck all _Kaiju_ and _monsters_ and architects who _designed the fucking lair to be one complete fucking maze and then decided that the most devious of the lot got to FUCKING LIVE HERE IN THEM!_

Wishing he had some _breadcrumbs_, he looked in both directions and tried to imagine which one might be closer to the exit.

A pungent smell reached him, and he had to focus on not freezing, on acting normal, briefly thanking the heavens for the fact that the two Kaiju passing did not recognize him. He caught a glimpse of their conversation as he walked past them.

"I have been trailing them for weeks now. There is no question whether or not we will going to get some fun out of this."

"And you are sure? It is time consuming to chase humans who actually have brains…or weapons. Not only that, but they are starting to notice. I know our King gave us permission to hunt, but there is a limit…"

"So then we will change the tactic, easy as that. I have a great idea, no need to worry."

"Do tell."

"But of course. How else would we be given our proper payment? There is no reason to lose easy prey and hunger longer than necessary."

* * *

Vale wasn't sure if he wanted Isabel to hurry up or not. If she didn't, he'd be left staring at two pairs of silver eyes which didn't seem like they would change directions. Kenny was sitting on the chair next to his desk. Darren wasn't. He was standing in front of him. Towering. Or maybe Vale just couldn't deal with the angle.

Kenny looked intrigued, twin leaden pools shimmering with curiosity, even though he hadn't moved since the half-Kaiju came back up. Darren, hardened dove-grey, impatient.

Vale watched Isabel finally finding her way through the constellation of beds and desks. She was still smiling. How was someone capable of smiling so long? It didn't even look constipated. It looked so nice.

Isabel entered the room, avoiding the six eyes that focused on her upon hearing the _creeeak_ of the door. She went to sit in the bed opposite of her pale-haired friend, a single thought slipping past her own filters.

He had nice eyes.

Timber. Remote cabins. Itchy warm burgundy jackets bunching around fingers. Afternoon glows in October. Cozy.

October eyes weren't mean to have clouds on them, either.

Vale's eyes zeroed on the two human children before him. They were lukewarm. Darren, chapped ice. The three of them waiting for the storyteller to begin his tale. And as he wondered where would be a good starting point, Isabel spoke. "You okay?"

_Okay._

Vale wanted to nod, wanted to say yes because that was what you were supposed to say when someone asked you if you were okay. When people asked if you were okay, it was more of a polite rhetorical question, something that didn't need to be answered by anything other than a nod or just absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.

Vale shook his head.

It was the first time he had admitted that in three years, four months and ten days.

It stayed quiet. Nothing but their breaths rushing.

The scar on Vale's face started to throb, as if it was trying to fight for his attention. It was screaming, shattering his ear drums from the inside out. His stomach started to churn. Bile bubbling.

He decided when to start on a split second. None of the ones surrounding him were aware of the complete story. He would take them back to when he still was bright-eyed, when Lea's hair wasn't umber, when everything was easier.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, and brought images of his parents to mind—but that, too, brought darkness. Bitterness. He did remember early childhood as a happier time, remembered running and playing with his siblings before time had driven them apart… Vale frowned. He'd run away from home at ten and always looked back. He definitely could blame that on Belloc, whose rise had encouraged his parents to cling to their offspring more strongly than ever before, and had driven Vale away as he came to learn that they could, indeed, be hurt.

Vale opened his eyes, and his lips curled into a silent snarl at the thought of his tormentor. He had, however, inherited a great deal of power, and, sometimes, the temper to match it. Now, he could blame the King of the Kaiju twice over. First, for making him—and now, for shaping him.

_I sincerely hope that comes back to haunt you._

He looked at the three in front of him. Now, how to begin?

_You want to know more. I'm giving you everything you're asking for. I'm giving. I'm giving. Everything. _

_So don't leave. _

He didn't say anything. He just breathed. "Once upon a time…"

* * *

Vale didn't know how much time had passed, only that Isabel and Kenny had gone downstairs, Darren was still with him, and he was feeling emotionally drained. Numb. He could feel darkness tearing at his being, memories threatening to rip apart his sanity.

_And still the offer remains."_

The words echoed in his ears, three hundred and six days later.

_"Remember that."_

He remembered. How could any sane man forget?

Except he wasn't sane. Not really, and not anymore. Not yet. Vale shivered, from what he now realized was not external cold. The cause was the darkness within him, the hands that gripped him like a shackle around his neck. Hands he had no way to escape—save one. This one.

But he had tried that, at age ten. It did him no good.

He had to focus on something else, on anything! Something that he had overlooked when the nightmare occurred…

His mom.

A split second of clarity, and his brain was working at lightning speed. He only knew her first name, who was she? Why did she do what she did? How could she? What if she hated him now? He had killed her after all. Vale shook himself. _She loved me_. He felt it in his bones. _She loved me._

He wondered if she was watching over him up there, both when he was on the surface and when he was deeper. He liked to pretend he couldn't breathe as well down there. He liked to pretend it was darker, deeper, like a pit that was clawing at the hem of his jacket, ready to devour him with one single bite.

And when Vale was calm enough to realize Darren was speaking, he was two stories closer stars. 2 stories and 93 million miles away from 100 thousand degrees Fahrenheit.

And her.

"Haven't you wondered why we Kaiju are so different from each other, yet we're from the same species?" Darren managed to get him back to the present with a simple question.

It took him a few minutes to come up with an answer, and even then he didn't answer, afraid he was wrong in his reasoning. When time had passed and the young hybrid didn't respond, Darren continued.

"Shapeshifting, firebreath, resistant scales… there's a name for all that: Adaptability. Kaiju pride themselves in their fast ability to adapt to environmental pressures."

"Our divine right, what makes us superior amongst all others." Vale interrupted, sounding –to Darren- like he was quoting someone. He nodded nonetheless, aware that his prince needed a distraction. He could see his eyes distant still.

"My parents were researching it, wanted to understand," the Kaiju continued, ignoring Vale's sharp intake of breath. "You can imagine how the others took the news."

Vale nodded absentmindedly. Blasphemous was the word that repeated in his mind over and over. To seek knowledge…how human.

"When we were exiled…" Darren kept talking, his eyes shut. "It…it didn't stop Mom or Dad. They wanted to continue their research. So they did a few tests."

"What do you mean?" Vale inquired, staring at Darren's closed lids. A wisp of ice touched his mind and he recoiled for a second, before allowing him entrance.

_A boy of about seven, picking himself up from the ground. A man and a woman watching him from a table nearby._

_"Are you sure this is the right way?" the woman asked, fingers drumming against the table. She was watching the boy stand and fall over and over. Vale thought of that as odd, the boy couldn't seem to stand on his two feet for more than two seconds. Well, stand he could, but when he took a step he would overcompensate and fall flat on his face._

_"I'm sure Dyllon will be fine." The man, who could only be Darren's father, assured her. "It will just take some time to adjust to moving differently that he's been programmed to."_

_"I don't see any of you trying this!" the boy said indignantly, stopping himself short of falling yet again. Vale watched as a long green tail appeared in order to steady him._

_It retracted again and the young Darren –or Dyllon as his parents called him- tried yet again walking without a tail._

_Another memory, and now Vale was watching Dyllon using Rîus arm as a crutch._

_"Well at least you're making progress." Rîus tried to encourage him and the boy grumbled something under his breath. "Not your fault you have a bit of a handicap."_

_"A bit of a handicap can get me killed in battle." The boy answered with a slight growling quality._

_"We're not there anymore, remember?" Rîus softly said and watched as Dyllon deflated before trying to get him to walk again. "Now, don't rush it, okay? Slow and steady…"_

It took Vale a few seconds to realize it was over. Darren was speaking again.

"When they, the other Kaiju, found out they hadn't stopped researching… they arranged their deaths to stop the research. At least, that's what I think. Neither I nor uncle Rîus were present at the time, but…it fits."

Vale tried rapidly to change the topic. He stared at Darren with a smile on his face. "But eventually you managed, to walk, huh?"

Darren shook his head, before slowly lifting his left pant leg. Midway through his leg what looked as a greed thick rope curled tightly around the limb. "Nope. I just had to learn to walk while having this hidden."

* * *

"I once tried to melt chocolate…you know, for a fondue, I turned on the stove but never put the pot…I put a metal salad bowl above the fire. Guess who lit the kitchen on fire?" Matt was saying, no doubt relating one of his many incidents that had let to their family practically banning him from the kitchen.

_Well, I have a few more. Once he wanted to do some hake but he mistook powdered sugar with flour…_

_He once cooked rice and put detergent on it instead of cooking oil… _the girl grimaced at the memory.

Lea was finishing the last touches of her drawing when the door to the boys' room opened for a third time. The first time, Kenny had walked out, pale and wide-eyed, his hands shaking. Lea didn't know why. His hands weren't allowed to shake. His hands were controlled, coiled, tight, tight, tight. His hands were a perpetual structure of his anatomy, unbreakable, stone, marble.

When Lea's hands shook, it was because she was nervous or scared. Once her hands had twitched and the left one had hurt. Vale's hands shook constantly these days. Odd that Kenny had shaking hands now, too.

Lea guessed that whatever had been discussed, it must have been shocking.

Isabel had come out second, biting her lower lip but managing a weak smile at her. Nothing too out of the ordinary with her. Lea noticed her eyes darting towards her and rooting her to the spot, before the smile finally reached Isabel's eyes and had stopped staring at Lea with the frightening gaze.

Darren came last, long after the others had left. He seemed normal enough, though the girl could see his hand going up and down to touch his hair. Lea wondered why.

The green-eyed girl looked over at Darren. Darren smiled a little wider, and he waved with two fingers. Lea clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. It was a reflex. A bad habit.

But Darren kept smiling, and the corners of Lea's mouth kept flexing - until she lost complete control over the lower half of her face.

Lea let her smile detonate.

Darren ran into a shelf.

She laughed, before turning her attention back to her drawing. A redheaded figure only a few inches long, opening up a heart-shaped door in a normal-sized boy's chest. The inside of the door was unseen, lest for a dim light. **_'Let me in,'_** the redhead was asking.

**_'Sure, but don't forget to turn the lights off when you leave.'_**

Lea was happy with the recent turn of events. In her own mind, everything was as it should be. With each new embrace, she had tied herself more tightly into him. She was able to ease the burden off her brother's shoulders by knowing what happened, seeing glimpses of it, again and again and again.

It hurt to watch, yes, and it always left her shaky and wanting to cry. It had only been two days, yet she had lost count of how many times she had woken up, with or without her brother in sight, a sharp shriek of 'LEAVE HIM ALONE!' dying on her lips. But in the end, she had the knowledge she had craved, so it was fine. It was worth it.

She was too blind to see.

* * *

_"No matter what you did, you do not deserve this."_

He hadn't been able to tell it complete, but those words meant a lot to him. As it was usual for Isabel, she had given him some tips to calm him down in those moments when he was transported back there. Lea helped, yes, but Isabel had been quite clear that he needed something else. That he needed to get out more, or do some exercise…

There was the white jagged end of a broken bone cutting through the skin and blood ran freely in thick scarlet rivers through his fingers. In the darkness it barely shone red, instead under his wavering flames it was almost a sickly blackish-gold.

Wait, that wasn't right.

There were days Vale would see, feel some injury or some situation and he'd have to shake his head to return to the present.

A part of him was always scared of setting foot outside. He didn't think the others realized just what being there meant for him. Home meant family, familiar faces. It meant predictability, it meant routine. Love. Safety.

He looked up from his hand just in time to see Lea passing his door and continuing her way, pausing just to smile at him. Odd, she had seen some of what happened to him, yet she was (acted?) more normal than him.

_Bigger, better, higher, higher, higher. Watch me go airborne, Vale. Watch me. _

The stakes had gotten so high. Vale had –unintentionally- twisted their game into the cruelest angle.

He was letting her sister dangle. Maybe he'd let go. Maybe she'd fall, catch herself, finally fly.

_Leave. _

_Leave me. _

But she never did, no matter what she experienced. Even on those nights where he let go of his sanity, where he caved in to her incessant tugging, when they both could remember those dark times, of the boy being played like an instrument, a fiddle, the memories, they crushed him, cracked him, ripped out the strings one by one, reduced him to nothing. Left him there.

Those nights were torture. Those nights made both the children see nothing but red. And his sister - his poor baby sister - being strung along by nothing but the thinnest thread.

Vale was sure, somewhere along the ride, he had broke him in those midnight hours.

Why wasn't she broken as well?

_Leave me. _

_No, don't. _

_Don't. _

_Please. _

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers. You storyteller has managed to continue this. HOORAY!**

**I am aware this is moving pretty slow, and I apologize if it's bothersome.**

**1-13 9 13-5? 9-19 8-5 13-5?**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	33. Two weeks is all it took

**So, hello guys! Here's your storyteller with the newest chapter!**

**As this is to show the pass of the time, the formatting is slightly different, I hope you don't mind. Oh and I'm so sorry this sucks, writer's block is hard to fight, you know?**

* * *

**_Please Sir, May I Have Some More?_**

_Vale stared blindly at the –now broken—wall of rocks that had him trapped, avoiding looking at the soon-to-be mean of escaping for as long as he could. He could barely work half as fast as he'd like to with the broken bones of his left hand. Eventually though, he was forced to admit the hole was big enough for him to pass through, and he did just that, his hands trembling in fear the entire time, painfully jostling the cracked bones of his left hand, and he got the dry heaves and had to stop running several times waiting for them to pass. His week without food had been reset after he had been found trying to gain nutrients from another source._  
_In desperation, Vale had taken advantage of a time he was allowed outside, and had tore handfuls of grass when he found some, and swallowed it. That night, he began frothing at the mouth and had vomited a mixture of grass and stomach acid. The beating that followed that incident had been terrible, even if he had not been able to gain any nutritional value from the grass he had tried to eat._

_It had been four days since that._

_His heart beat painfully inside his chest, with the sudden realization that he had been caught, and then he knew no more, just..._

**STop iT**

_...just blurred images of red..._

**Don'T hURt mE**

_...of red and pain, an endless..._

**i wIll be goOD i pROMise**

_...endless agony and the smell..._

_It wasn't a scream this time. He was begging. A rush of sounds without pause, mindless moans of _**oh god please stop stop it i swear to god i'll do anything you want please**

_...the smell of blood..._

**can't i can't can't take it please god don't don't please**

_...blood and burning flesh..._

**noooo**

_Laughter, soft, but he could hear it even above his own litany of pleas._

It was with a repressed scream that Lea awoke in her room. Those two weeks had been plagued by similar nightmares, prompting Valentine to try and go to her room whenever he suspected the night would be difficult.

She choked a sob. She (he, they) had been dreaming terrible things. She hoped it was a fertile imagination but she had trouble believing she was that creative. The things that appeared in his dreams were things she didn't want to think he could come up with... but the other alternative was worse.

"It was just a nightmare", she said to herself, trying to soothe her anxiety. Her brother woke up at that moment, and Lea tried to ignore the gagging that seemed to last for hours. When it passed, Vale finally focused eyes on her.

She looked lost and vulnerable, like a victim in one of his family's war stories. But she wasn't a victim, nothing had happened. It was a fertile imagination and a perfect villain. Nothing in her (or his) nightmares had ever happened. Learning what Vale had endured had just put her and her subconscious on edge. Nothing else.

Besides, she wanted to understand, take the memories away one by one.

"H-he hit you," Lea uttered aloud. It felt strange to say. Like a confession to a crime she didn't think she'd committed. Like a weight had come off her chest.

But she still didn't understand.

Lea tried to make her voice less croaky and repeated, "'Vale, he hit you. He hit you."

"Here?" he breathed, sounding a little winded. Like he ran into a desk and had the breath knocked out of him. Like he's freezing and can't quite fight back shivers and trembles. "On my face?"

Lea nodded. "And your arm." She pointed to the arm that had been hurt the most and she flinched when he heard Vale making a sound like someone had punched him in the gut. Was he remembering? Lea did remember how it looked like. Parts of it had been caked in dark, dried blood. She'd never seen so much on him before. The rest of his hand looked like… he's just come from art class.

"Vale," she asked in a small voice. "Did you do something really bad?"

Lea heard a wet sob behind her. She spun around to see her brother had his head dropped into his hands, shaking it, back and forth, like he was a metronome. He was still trembling.

It made Lea uneasy to watch.

"Vale…?"

But Valentine didn't answer her.

Lea could only offer Vale a feeble hug.

* * *

_**Brothers Stick Together?**_

To be honest, Vale didn't know which dreams he preferred: Lea's or Matt's.

Things had started simply enough; after a week-and-a-half of uninterrupted sleeping Vale had all but cut off the connection between Lea and him. What Vale hadn't expected was for Matt offering to replace her in a way. It would be a lot like the accidental contact Vale and Darren once had, with the disadvantage that either party could be the ones supplying the dreams. Truth to be told, Matt's dreams were more normal than theirs, with the added bonus that they would prevent Vale from having nightmares sometimes, instead of his dreams being the ones shown every night. A win-win.

Of course Vale's nightmares would show up frequently, but he was grateful for the change of scenery his big brother provided. Mostly Matt's dreams consisted of those ridiculous half-remembered nonsense that usually neither remembered upon waking, or related to the nervousness he felt about the upcoming exams. As Matt studied, they started to gradually disappear.

What wasn't disappearing, however, were his dreams of a different nature. Vale thought it'd be pleasant to have variety in dreams. And speaking of pleasure, Matt's dreams had a tendency to...escalate.

The first time it happened, Vale nearly transformed and choked him just to get him to stop.

In Vale's opinion, it was awful to see those things concerning your big brother and a partner. Matt should know he was not allowed to do those things. That particular day, when Matt woke up, he was still red in the face. Vale, on the other hand, was lying half dead from shock in his bed. Matt lifted his blankets up, peeked, turned redder still, and spent a good portion of his morning washing his underwear.

The little brother promptly went out and spent his day in the computer, trying to forget that. It lasted almost ten days. Any time Vale felt those dreams acting out, he'd wake up and attempt to read books in one sitting.

Lately he had been getting creative.

Their deal was ended in mutual agreement.

* * *

**_What Is In A Distraction._**

During the course of those weeks, Lea had been kind enough to tell Darren about a revelation she had had. The very fact that she was still drawing of things to come was enough to worry him, and distract him from the painful void he was feeling most of the time.

Darren would have been completely lost if Matt hadn't deciphered it already.

3.d4 d6 4.c4 Nb6 5.f4. It was in Matt's handwriting. The four pawn attack. Alekhine's Defence.

Four pawns, four attacks, in four different places, Darren supposed. But the question remained, what could they be referring to?

Darren supposed he could only wait for the meaning to show up. Like always.

And now he was thinking about waiting, and that made him oh so impatient. And then there it was, that thing, taking over, conquering. It ripped through his stomach, made his head spin in the tightest circles.

Red. Blazing. _Deranged_.

Static in ears. Eyes, red dynamite.

He hoped his uncle was okay.

* * *

_**If At First You Don't Succeed.**_

This is not the way a love story might go someday.

Matt is ordinary and unremarkable, all short dark hair and red lacrosse jersey and fingers drum-drumming on his desk in a case of something he'll never admit might be nerves. He notices the girl because he _has_ to - because she draws attention to herself like someone dropped a classical sculpture in the middle of a not-terribly-noteworthy high school - but he makes a very careful point not to stare at her, not when something about her makes his skin crawl.

The girl is looking at him now, her head tilted ever-so-slightly, like a curious cat's. She doesn't bother to hide this, even when he darts quick glances in her direction.  
So the boy vows then and there, during waiting for his brother to get out of class, to never pay any special attention to this particular girl. There is something about her that reminds him unpleasantly of danger and dark corners. (And anyway, he doesn't know this is a promise he can't keep.)

In love stories the boy doesn't call the girl a stalker, because he's seen her following his little brother.

But this is not a love story. This is the story of a boy trying to fit in and make friends and get through basketball tryouts - who doesn't understand why his new classmates consider this girl stunningly impossibly beautiful, witty and perfect and amazing and ten thousand other virtues, because his first instinct (ruthlessly suppressed, of course, on the grounds that it's ridiculous) is to grab them by their collars and drag them bodily away from her. The fact that - that she's everywhere he is from first period to tenth no matter how badly he stalls between classes - just makes the entire situation all the worse.

He progresses from ignoring her to making stiff shooing motions without really looking at her to finally snapping and calling her weird freaky psycho-girl stop following him right in front of a teacher, which adds some hilarity to the high school rumor mill and earns him a detention, but utterly fails to deter her.  
Matt doesn't know how Vale could ignore her.

(For some inexplicable reason he expects her to lash out at him when he yells at her - like that he spends a split second thinking his life is in danger while his heart hammers painfully against his ribs - but he gets nothing worse than an expression of polite bafflement for his troubles.)

The first words she ever says to him are "You don't like me at all, do you?"

The fact that she sounds mildly approving - as if he's passed some sort of test - makes him twitch at sudden movements for the rest of the day.

He doesn't actually hear her leave, because she's completely silent when she walks - because maybe he's too busy sagging in silent shaky relief, or possibly just banging his head against the wall and wondering what he did to deserve this.

His mom always tells him that he has an unusual amount of simple common sense for someone his age - that he is not prone to sweeping ideas or grand adventures, that he balances between any two extremes in a way that most people are never able to no matter how old they.

He is not the type to believe in happily-ever-after or even 'til-death-do-us-part or the transcendent and all-encompassing power of love, at least not as they apply to his own life. They are well and good, he thinks, for the people who have the time for that sort of thing, but not for him.

The girl's name is Natalie - "Naya," she says, so of course he calls her Lee on general principles - and the rumor mill says she lives alone, although it doesn't bother to give the circumstances behind this situation or how she gets away with it without someone calling the cops.

When he glances at her, some part of him knows he ought to be running for his life. But when he really looks - when he thinks about her expressions and her words and what they might mean, he thinks it's better she's now focusing on him instead of his fair-haired brother.

"I'm afraid of the dark," he tells once, because he's outside the school trying to finish up an English paper and he knows - he is absolutely certain - that if anyone else besides his brother came to him, they would think he's alone.

The girl he calls Naya-Lee is leaning against the wall by the door, invisible because she wants to be.

He sees her plain as day. He always does.

"Are you really?" she asks quietly, rhetorically. "You don't seem like the type."

He skims his outline without seeing it and shrugs. "I'm afraid of people too," he says. "The people everybody likes." And he darts a glance at her, glad his back isn't to her even as he tells her exactly how ridiculous he is.

"Maybe you're just sensible," she says after a moment. "Maybe you're good at seeing monsters."

"Or maybe I need to grow up," he mutters - but she doesn't reach over and flip the lights off like any of his (other) friends would, and for that he's more grateful than he ought to be.

Instead she laces her fingers together. "Are you scared of me?"

"Yes," he says without any hesitation. (He sees her go much too still out of the corner of his eye.) "But if you wanted to hurt me, I figure you would've already, so right now I'm just afraid of failing this class." He taps his outline with his pen, dotting a would-be analysis of Helen of Troy with blue ballpoint ink.

She says nothing, just leans more heavily against the wall than before and makes a show of peering down at her hands.

He recognizes relief when he sees it and pretends not to notice.

This is not the way a love story ought to be, not when the boy has common sense and the girl has lived for such a long time.

It happens in a game of chess (Because of course he'd show it to her) and she's too invested into the game despite the fact that she's lost to him in most their matches.

She recognizes the textbook-movement he is about to pull, and she has him on check before he realizes it. He manages to postpone it, and they're both too focused when she jokingly says 'Marry me' when they've been playing for three hours.

"Only if you say it first." he replies, because being too paranoid never killed anyone, and takes out her pawn with his bishop.

She shrugs, paying more attention to the next move she's about to make. "I promise to love, honor and-"

"Enough, enough, move already," he replies because he's too anxious on winning. The girl shivers and moves a horse before looking at him in horrified disbelief. She flees.

Matt doesn't realizes what happened until he's already home.

* * *

**Done, people! I hope you enjoyed it! Review, if you please.**


	34. Lighthouses

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

**Seriously, people, review.**

**Warning: One of the scenes may have been inspired a bit by Hannibal.**

* * *

Naya was scared. Freaking out. Terrified.

What had- The oath- it wasn't planned. She hadn't been thinking. Too reckless. Her mouth going a mile too fast for her brain.

And now she was engaged. To a boy she barely knew. To a _human_. And she didn't even want that!

She wondered what could she say. Explain. Retort. Because she'd have to tell her parents at some point. She'd have to tell and everyone would know and she'd be a disgrace. She knew most people hadn't forgiven the King for such an event.

She'd not be forgiven either.

Naya needed something else. To bring back. Soften the blow. Be forgiven.

And it dawned on her- the boy. The child. The hatchling. The prince.

Perhaps, maybe, she could convince him to go back with her. Her slip of tongue would be overlooked. And then she'd work out with Matt what would they do from there.

Yes. Yes. That's what she'd do.

* * *

As the last week of May came around, and the anxiousness about exams eased, the eighth grade of room 134 had found a new favorite topic to discuss between classes. The odd disappearances around town had increased to the point the town was at the brink of mass panic.

Honestly, it had been only a matter of time.

Children often liked to talk about morbid things, after all.

The students at the school had taken the habit of even going home in groups, watching every movement with wide eyes. Fearful eyes. As though someone would jump out of the shadows and attack them.

In Isabel's opinion, it was a dumb move.

Come Wednesday, the rumor mill had shifted from the unnatural, animal-esque ravagings that seemed so prominent, to the odd sights that had beginning to pop up in the news report. What people had started to call the Butterfly kills.

She, Darren and Vale usually found themselves discussing it as well, with Kenny adding the occasional observation. It helped that they all knew what they were discussing about.

In the midst of chatting about the recent killings and whether or not they had managed to pass all their exams, Isabel would sometimes joke about the idea of Vale becoming a profiler, since he seemed to know so much about the Butterfly kills.

Of course, with time, she noticed the health issues starting to creep in, the way he would just freeze in the middle of the discussion of crime scenes, his eyes glazing over as he moved around the room in a gait very different to his own. It was far more confident, elegant.

It was a little unnerving to watch, she would admit, and dangerous to snap the boy out of before he was ready. When he was ready, he'd go very pale, glance down and examine his hands as if he was looking for something different, before opening his mouth to give a detailed account of what happened and why, voice clipped as he recounted motivations, observations – things none of the others had noticed – his words pouring out, tumbling over each other to convey all sorts of symbolism and analysis and interpretations and implications and –

Then he'd fall silent.

* * *

It was a lazy day. Vale and Darren were supposed to be doing their homework. Well Darren had been, until his gaze had wandered over the organized mess that was Vale's desk. Over it rested an array of books, some much too advanced for such a small child to understand, while others were of a gentler reading. Stories, fiction, and fantasy. Old sonnets and more advanced books, however, were often of history or psychology. Of the relations between people and the world around them, how they were connected. There were a few books on different fields of science he had never heard of mixed in.

Unusually instead of with his nose buried in a book, Vale was alternating between cloud gazing from his spot on the windowsill and writing to his heart's content on his notebook. The soft whisper of a pencil on paper was soothing.

"Okay, see that one there?" Vale said pointing to a cloud passing by. "I'm seeing a rabbit. There's the head and the ears and the fluffy tail at the end."

"I see it," Darren said in agreement, homework completely forgotten. "Though it _is_ a deformed rabbit. I'm seeing five feet."

"Oh poor thing, it must have had such a hard life," Vale said with a laugh.

"It probably got made fun of by all the other cloud bunnies," Darren said in mock sympathy.

"And now he just floats around the sky, searching for acceptance," Vale said with a sigh. The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Okay, that one looks like a cake with some candles on top," Darren said pointing to a new one.

"Alright, give me a second to try to see that one," said Vale, cocking his head to the side.

"You look happy today." Darren commented, tucking a stray hair behind his hear. With all the talking about murders that had been going on he'd started to feel like in an episode of Criminal Minds.

The young boy turned away. They all were safe today, so he was happy. It angered him though; that whoever it was still hadn't given up. It was one of the first things most human children learned, hurting nice people was wrong, so when he met someone trying to harm his loved ones...

Well, Vale glanced back towards the window; he was going to _make them bleed_.

Wait, he could see the shape Darren described.

"Okay, I see it now. You're right. Definite cake with candles," Vale said. "Wanna spend the night here?" Vale blurted out without thinking. Darren stared, dark eyebrow raising, and Vale thought about the killings and the dreams. But also how odd Matt was lately, his movements barely there (for what Vale could gather, he had found himself a girlfriend) and that he'd spend the night at a friend's. Then he thought about Darren, all by himself.

The Kaiju boy finally answered. "Sure. But may I inquire why the sudden question?"

"Matt will be out tonight, and you haven't been in my house for a while." Vale responded as he blew fire in his hands to warm then even more. Yes, his friends called him crazy for doing that when it was summer, but he needed high temperatures.

_Besides, as long as I'm with you, you're mine._ He kept that small thought to himself, the anger boiling under his skin. Flashes of his life before, of the lack of possessions, came to mind. Anything he obtained was taken. While the gomorradons were comforting company, they were soon out of reach. Especially when it was realized he actually _liked_ the small critters.

He knew he had seen through the lie, but wouldn't point it out.

"You, boy, are a riddle so warped that it's painful to try to unravel." Vale bit back a laugh, and shook his head. Painful? Life _was_ painful. Everything about coming back, and the steady decline to the last days of school, was painful. It was like his magic, and the way it was fluctuating inside him as he stood. It was always there, a steady presence, but utterly unpredictable.

He noticed Darren's was acting out, probably to defend himself against the sudden increase in temperature. As they made their way outside, the air around his friend chilled, mist dusting the air, and he ran his hands along his arms.

Though he had a sneaking suspicion that being so protective of his loved ones was a bad thing.

What little he had, what was _his_, was precious. Something to be protected.

"Your control of your magic is horrid..." he whispered at Darren, soft brown light filling his vision behind his closed lids.

"Oh yeah?" the other asked, suddenly playful. "And I'm sure your control is so much better, _hatchling_."

Vale opened his eyes and bit back a hiss, having spotted something not-quite-right on the visage of his first friend. Brown hair. Red eyes-

It was gone. But that didn't stop Vale from moving, the sight was something that had him stumbling backward in sharp disbelief. He tripped over his own feet, and he landed, hard, on the ground.

Darren lay beside him, tail coming out and curling on one of his legs. "Finally where you belong, boy. On the ground."

Vale huffed as he shook his leg back and forth, trying to loosen the green coils. "I don't know why you don't know, my green-scaled friend, but humans aren't supposed to be on the ground. Hence why we have two feet instead of four."

'I can think of many reasons for a scrawny thing like you to be on all four.' Darren hissed with a smirk, and his pointed face angled to stare him in the eye. He held his gaze for many a long moment before the tail let go of his leg, circling him, one thick coil draping across his lap as he added, as if it was an afterthought, 'Though why any would fancy you is beyond me."

Vale felt his cheeks flush as shock surged through him. Did he really just go there?

"Get off me, you overgrown lizard."

* * *

Darren gave a happy sigh, the cool night air relaxing his nerves. The sight of the night sky had always been calming to him, now even more so, thanks to the pressure he'd been under for months. He'd been in a pathetic slump ever since, barely leaving the house for anything except essential stuff like food and air in general. Matt and Vale had been slowly coaxing him out of his house further and further, taking each day as it came. One day he'd be forced to go to the park, other days he'd have to go on a walk.

He'd excused himself while Vale was chatting up his parents, and had come up to the same window Vale had he had watched clouds earlier that day.

He wasn't surprised to find Lea there. It seemed the White siblings like to watch things. Clouds, stars, people...

The moon was shining and the stars were twinkling like little fairy lights in the sky. There was something about the night sky that he'd always found so fascinating and inspiring, the only thing he had taken an instant liking since his family was banished. Sometimes, he wished he could free fall into the sky, let the spectrums catch him by the hem of his sweater. He wished he could dive right in, gravitational pull letting him go and hurling him through time and space and every nebula in its wake. He wondered what stars looked like up close. He wanted to touch them, hold them, press them tight against his chest.

"It's amazing, right?" Lea had wide eyes set on the sky above them, a sweet smile on her lips. "Just look at all of them... the stars..." the girl whispered, a look of awe on her small face as she spoke. "They're all just so beautiful..."

"Yeah..." Darren nodded, turning his attention back to the sky and smiling, sighing softly. "I've always found it to be the most relaxing place to go when I'm stressed, you know?"

"What do you think they _really_ are?" Lea breathed, her eyes never moving from the sky, fixed on a point Darren couldn't quite make out. "The stars, I mean."

"Well, they're just burning balls of gas," Darren answered, his eyes glancing back and forth between the girl next to him and the sky, both fascinating him.

"What did you think they were before?"

"...Diamonds," Darren smiled, grinning fondly at the memory of his childhood, when he used to spend night after night staring at the sky and wondering why humans looked for treasures underground when they had so many up there. He used to ask his dad why, and he'd always laugh and carry him up to bed, never answering his burning question. "What about you?"

"I... I've never told anyone, but... I've always thought they were lighthouses," she whispered, balling her hands into fists. "Billions of lighthouses... stuck at the far end of the sky."

"I've never thought about it like that... It must be so lively up there," Darren gasped, fixing his gaze on the stars and biting his lip, the mere thought of it taking his breath away.

"But it isn't... They can see all the other lighthouses out there, and they want to talk to them, but they can't, because they're all too far away to hear what the others are saying," she breathed, the look on her face something Darren couldn't quite decipher. "All they can do... is shine their lights out from afar... So that's what they do. They shine their lights at the other lighthouses, and at me."

Darren smiled. Lea White. Little sister. Little seer. Little lighthouse.

* * *

Scarlet. Ivory. Vacant gaze. Red hair, dark hair. Legs and arms spread and pinned to the wall like a butterfly on a cork board. Mouth open in a silent scream. Blood on his hands, in the corner of his mouth, and in the quiet drip onto the floor.

Vale's eyes snapped open as he stared up into the darkness, chest heaving for air. For a second, the images still swirled through his head, like the after-flash of a camera burnt on his mind. He sat up, shoving his twisted sheets aside. The bed sheets were drenched in a cold sweat.

His nights had always been plagued by nightmares, but they'd been changing to the point Vale now knew –knew with a certainty he shouldn't- that his father was actually participating on those clandestine killings that was practically the entire news report each day.

He rubbed his eyes. He had moved to stand in the kitchen, cold seeping into his toes as he clutched a glass of water in his hand.

He wished his hand was shaking. It wasn't. It was perfectly steady.

He knew there was something deeply wrong with him.

He sipped his water.

He felt it. At those ones. It was like something extra in the copper of the blood, in the emptiness of the victim's eyes – something dark, like a shadow that sunk into his bones and hooked into his guts like chains.

His heart was speared onto the wall like their bodies, in a parody of a museum collection. Always the same. Belloc did so love to collect things, he knew that. He wished he didn't. He wished he didn't know of his father's tendency towards trophies.

He didn't know why the monster did the things he did – without any seeming purpose or cause. There didn't seem to be any greater plan, and if there was, it was jumbled – blocked off from him, like a frosted window which only allowed him to see a distorted version of the view.

But he could _feel_ it.

He didn't know why he felt it. It was muffled, but when he stepped into -or even something so minor as seeing it in the news- those crime scenes – into his mind and into the blackest aspects of his soul – he could feel it and it claimed him.

The most awful, terrible things coupled with the wildest of joys, and it terrified him because whenever he'd been to one of those scenes he would come home with bloodlust itching beneath his skin and thoughts of murder slipping through his dreams.

He'd see people on the street and wonder, involuntarily.

He made him feel violated. Belloc made him feel like he was the killer, that he could be the killer… that maybe lines of red tape should become redder and then broken entirely for the sake of greater justice.

The worst part was that he knew the link went both ways.

Matt said he was breaking. That maybe he just needed someone to talk to about the horrible things he'd seen, to be told that feeling disgusted and frightened and guilty was normal.

What he had wasn't normal.

They knew he could get into the Kaiju's head. They didn't seem to realize that it wasn't like flicking through the pages of a book, it was getting sucked straight into the story and feeling everything.

The Kaiju did the crimes -be it his father or some of his subjects. _He_ did the crimes – and there was no way to say that, to express that, without sounding insane.

He wasn't insane, he just…

The wiring was wrong. Crossed too much with the mind of a psychopath, uncaring of anything but his own desires.

He needed to distract himself unless he wanted to sleep with another victim in his head. He needed to stop Belloc before he consumed his own mind entirely, dragged him into an unknown world. How long could one stare into the abyss, after all? Especially when the abyss stared back so vividly.

And every so often it would return to that one, the worst one, even if it had never happened (and Vale would make sure it wouldn't). To his family.

Red hair. Dark hair. And he unable to move.

He saved them. He killed them. It all tangled and he hated it.

It didn't even make sense in his head.

There was no sympathy involved, just the kills as if they were his own.

And he didn't even know who Belloc really was.

There was never a mirror with which to see himself – see him – and he always saw it from the Kaiju's own eyes.

He drained the glass and set it down.

He wasn't broken. There was nothing wrong with his mind to fix, there were no issues to resolve, or no more than most people had, anyway.

He just happened to kill someone in all the ways that counted and festered in his heart every time he felt angry, like the trigger of a gun that never had the safety on.

He had a bond with a mass-murdering psychopath.

The last scene he saw had been the final straw. A boy: his age, fair-haired, so obviously a replacement for the real target – for him – with his heart torn out. In the heart's place was a butterfly, pinned down, still alive, just like a collector would, always still alive when the crime scene was discovered, but never able to fly again.

He wanted to fly. To stay airborne.

If he wanted to survive the upcoming war, he needed to be stronger. Rebuild his mental defenses, shattered by that nightmare two weeks ago.

An idea –a possible solution- lit up inside him, leaving him wondering why he didn't think of that sooner.

Silent and alone in the kitchen, Valentine smiled, a borderline-insanity, half genuine smile.

* * *

Vale stared at the man in front of him in petrified terror.

He didn't expect that to happen. Vale had been having a normal day, it wasn't his fault Troy had intended to corner him when he was leaving school. He supposed being in such a foul mood had been his fault after all.

He hadn't really done anything. The stupid jock had attacked him.

Hits and jabs. Meat hitting meat.

They were flipping, twisting, detonating and pulling themselves back together. Or maybe he was just imagining them. Angry sounds coming out of angry bodies.

Troy's knuckles were droning. The tiny vibrations made his hands blurry.

And then, out of nowhere, stillness. Lack of movement. Quiet, still. Two eyes straining against whatever was behind him. Troy was afraid of moving, Vale could see. Deer in the headlights. Fight-or-flight-or-freeze.

Vale turned around.

A man walking towards them. It almost looked mechanical. It was the way he was ripping one foot behind the other. Advancing with force. His chest looked like it was palpitating. His mouth was clamped shut, lips barely visible. And his eyes -

Vale felt the world go numb.

The man's eyes were empty. Those eyes were the outcome of forest fires, woodland charred and bare to the bone. Ashes. Rubbles. Smoke.

And was pointing a gun straight at him.

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers.**

**I am aware this is moving pretty slow, and I apologize if it's bothersome.**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	35. Heartbeat

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

**Seriously, people, review.**

* * *

The boy was supposed to come back. He'd done everything right.

What had he missed?

Was he supposed to give him more time? Another push? He frowned.

He'd been able to feel the boy's emotions since that day – it had been a matter of deduction to work out whose the feelings were, because he didn't see how they could so suddenly be his own.

Even if they felt like it.

Before, the only happiness he'd got, the greatest power and delight, had been when he held a fragile life in his hands with the full knowledge that however much they pleaded, he was going to rip it away.

He'd always been able to see into people's minds. It was useful, it allowed him to twist the webs of the world to suit his own needs, and while he'd once intended to use it to help them … they didn't deserve his help. They weren't worth his help.

If his subjects knew his mind, they would call him a monster and a freak. Maybe he was, but he was the greater creature and their tiny dreams and minds bent beneath his scrutiny and talents.

He fixed them up, he played with their minds, all for the control and the delight of forcing them to face their own fears. But that was in the past.

Maybe he was trying to understand them, their stupidity, their common emotions, because besides anger, it was never anything he had felt himself, before _her_.

Maybe he needed a guise for murder, and maybe he occasionally found gems.

And they thought he was _kind_.

He was the King; he dictated the darkest aspects of their world and ruled them silently from above mere mortal thrones of existence, as puppet master. His toys, his marionettes, smiling and speaking on his strings. Maybe it was time to dabble in that again.

He had to admit, when the boy had run away, he'd been skeptical of having the boy's emotions flitting about in his head.

Until he realized how his own emotions were affecting his son in turn; then it became truly fascinating.

The boy was so good, so in conflict with him, and yet, as shown, still susceptible to repeated conditioning, to his emotions.

He'd always loved the rush of power he got from holding someone's life in his hands, and to know that one person shared that love of murder, understood him – however involuntarily – was thrilling.

But the boy hadn't come back.

His jaw clenched.

It wasn't anywhere near as fun if he didn't come back, if he couldn't pick through his head and guide him and watch him and break him and mould him.

* * *

The first emotion Matt experiences when he sets eyes on her is guilt.

The…the contract (he refused to call it _marriage_) had been battling for a place in the forefront of his mind with the exams and various things from his social circle.

He set the board between them and moves a pawn. "I'm sorry."

Naya (Lee, he reminds himself) looks surprised for a moment, blue eyes widening. "Why's that?" a pawn of her own.

"I didn't mean for us to become…" he falters as he moved one of his horses, a slight hesitation in his movement.

"Betrothed? A couple? Engaged?" She presses on, inwardly enjoying how easy he is to fluster. "Well I hope you are happy." She grumbles as she considers her next movement. "I shudder to think what my parents will say if I present them the news." There. A pawn.

"If?" The boy immediately lunges over this piece of information. "Not when?"

N-_Lee_ looks at him as though he's a two-year-old and she, an all-knowing being. It makes him feel irritated, like al those teachers with a superiority complex in his school. "I can't harm you even if I wanted to, and it wouldn't be good if harm has befallen you before this week ends-or all weeks." She gives a smile of too-pointy teeth. "At least you are an interesting human, Matthew White, however young you may be." After a pause she adds, "Your turn."

The boy looks at her as his horse hovers between two places. Brown eyes. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Tanned skin. Scarred hands. Scaled hands. Black hair. Black hair. "Young?" he asks sardonically, placing his horse on the spot. She lifts ten fingers, before lowering them and lifting up six. Matt tries to repress a smile. "You don't exactly look 32, Lee."

Her eyes smile at him. "I'm counting in centuries."

(He never noticed how she didn't mind the contract.)

* * *

It was amazing Troy managed not to run.

Even in humans, who had learned to repress that instinct as soon as it became convenient, the fight or flight instinct was strong. At least for a while. The instant Troy deduced that the man's attention wasn't on him, but on the other boy, he ran for the hills.

"Come here," the man said. Hard. Cutting. _Come here._

And Vale knew he had to, because this guy had to be an agent from MEGTAF- that or a killer of some sort, and he didn't think he had such luck.

"What do you want with me?"

"What does one do with a feral animal?" he asked. Vale stayed silent, and the man added with a sigh, "That wasn't a rhetorical question."

There was a chance—maybe not much of one, but it was there—that Vale would be faster than the man, because he'd had to be faster to survive.

"Destroy it," Vale whispered.

The man blinked hard. Then he said, "Good God, no. Not yet." He lowered his gun. "Tame it. Make it useful and interesting, to itself as well as to other people."

Vale tried to bolt. But in the moment before the man reached out and caught his arm, the boy saw it would be useless. If one agent was there then someone could be heading towards his family's home, and even if Vale had been willing to abandon them, MEGTAF would want information.

Vale turned silently and quickly towards the man. He shot his claws and raked them hard across the man's arm, leaving bloody trails. He shouted in surprise and wrung his fingers.

But he didn't let him go, which was the opposite experience Vale had had with everyone else who got a scratch. He simply swung to the side, slamming him in the solar plexus and dazing him. Vale was still trying to catch his breath when he felt the man's gun come to rest in the middle of his head.

Vale held still, and waited. He would regret dying now, because that meant he wouldn't get the chance to protect his family, but he wasn't afraid.

He had no option but to obey. Perhaps some opinions were inherited, because he was more than a little disturbed of the fact he had been caught.

He expected most agents from MEGTAF to be like Barnes –thickly built, physical, with cold, cold eyes- but this man looked almost normal. Brown hair, brown eyes. Frozen eyes. The slight smile made him seem like he was bored most of the time and was happy now because Vale was there, therefore he wouldn't be bored anymore.

The boy didn't like that smile, he had seen it enough to know it meant danger.

He didn't trust that man, and it wasn't because of said male having a gun pointed at him. He didn't trust the man's smile, or the fact that he was being lead to a group of old school buses, yet his captor moved with an ease that told Vale he was familiar with the place.

He didn't trust the way the man stopped in front of one of the buses, or that the inside of it was nothing like it should be –instead it was all metal and technology and odd- nor how the vehicle, the jet, shot itself from its carcass and flew through the sky, the way Vale longed to.

_I'm a prisoner. Again._ He thought, sitting on a grey seat, trying to look through the window.

But at least – at least that man hadn't shot him on sight. MEGTAF agents who saw a Kaiju always shot first. Surely this meant he regarded him as more human than anything. Surely, surely.

"My name is Daniel Richards," the man said, and it was only then that Vale realized that the jet was now on autopilot- he was looking at him, having his full attention. Vale quickly schooled his expression to one that gave nothing away, if there was going to be an interrogation, better not to say anything unwise, or to show any emotions.

"You have been evading MEGTAF for a long time now," Richards said. "Maybe we have neglected keeping tabs on you, if such a violent act was the one that made one of us bring you to our quarters. You must be wondering why you are still alive, being the organization that we are."

Vale only stared and said nothing. He had no idea what was he expected to say, in any case.

"It could be said that you didn't know your mother worked with us and we kind of owed her, and therefore you, one." Richards shifted on his place of the jet and observed him.

"You owe nothing to me," Vale said. He had to speak now. "You weren't her friend."

"That's a large assumption to make, isn't it? Considering you don't know me, and didn't know her."

Vale felt a weak jolt of grief, and knew he had some kind of reaction and he _hated_ it. "Even if what you say it's true, you work for an organization that kills Kaiju, and she was carrying a half-human child months before her death, which you didn't try to prevent. Ergo, you can't have been close."

"Your mother had practically disappeared from the face of the Earth since she left with Belloc. We didn't know she was dead until months later. There was nothing we could have done."

Vale didn't say anything.

Richards chuckled, for some reason. "I can feel your doubt from here."

Vale didn't know how to get out from there. Perhaps he could wait until the man was distracted and jump off…but he didn't know if he would survive the fall, and there was the problem of getting back to safety.

"I wonder what they will do with you," Richards said almost conversationally, turning his eyes back to driving the jet. Apparently he thought Vale as not enough of a threat to have his full attention. "There are times when I wish to know the Kaiju news. I wonder if you're a runaway or you left with their blessing."

Vale knew his expression changed, he hadn't practiced lately at keeping it still. Richards laughed in response. "Should have known! Should have known! Why did you run away, then?"

The boy didn't say anything. The man was laughing at him, didn't consider him a threat. Lea could do all kinds of things, and look at the things everyone expected him to do. That was silly, Vale thought, to dismiss someone's abilities just based on them being a child.

Richards massaged his temple like he had water in his ear. Vale knew that kind of touch. He used to do it when he was hit in the head too hard.

"How in the world," Richards asked. "Did Belloc and Margaret manage to have a child who should have been more Kaiju in appearance? And is more or less neutral? And has no qualms about hurting people? And cares only for a few others but doesn't give a damn about the rest- including himself?" Richards asked, lifting himself up from his seat and pacing. "I guess you inherited your mother's self-sacrificing tendencies. You won't sacrifice those few people, but your own life is a tool that you'll give up if you think you'll need to. Who are you, Duncan Rosenblatt?"

_How did you know…?_ Vale looked back, and said nothing, the sharp retort about his name dying on his lips. He had a surname to match the name of the mysterious woman that had been his biological mother.

"…but she wasn't that kind of person. You don't add up." Richards was still speaking, and Vale ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. "Who taught you to be so self-conscious?"

Vale didn't see the point in answering.

Richards tapped his fingers along his leg. "It would be much easier if you told me on your own," he admitted. "But I can guess a lot of things by the way you remain silent."

Vale remained silent.

"Most children wouldn't have the patience to do that," Richards said. "They would have to do something. Wriggle around. Threaten me. Whine at me about when I was going to let them go. But you're in control of your reactions. It is fascinating."

Vale sat. It was way too risky to jump out, he didn't know if his wings were healed yet. The little idea he had a few days ago was too underdeveloped to test now, and he wasn't about to do such a leap of faith.

"Someone has formed you," Richards said softly. He might have been speaking to a wall instead of Vale. "Trained you, I would say, except I don't think they knew what they were training you for." He shook his head.

"Do you know James Barnes?" Richards added suddenly. "Quite an acquaintance of mine." He smiled as if something was amusing.

Vale knew he reacted to the sound of Barnes' name, too, but he tried to keep it down to a spurt of breathing or a tremor in his hands, nothing that would tell Richards very much.

"The way you keep quiet could be a legacy of abuse," Richards said. "Or it could be because animals don't talk, either." Vale didn't react at the jab. "Your adoptive family, perhaps?"

Vale didn't even think before he opened his mouth and hissed at Richards, a swirl of fire and smoke coming through. He would be a very different person if that were true. People who were afraid of being cold or hungry weren't sympathetic to other people.

"Your father taught you well, didn't he? How?"

"He didn't teach me," Vale said, unable to prevent himself. The quick coil of hatred in his belly at the thought that someone might think Belloc was responsible for his skills was too much. He tried to rein himself back again, because Richards had smiled, and Vale wouldn't give him what he wanted. "He just let me learn."

Richards stared at him in turn. Simply put, he liked secrets, and he liked puzzles, and he could quite easily put on a different face tailored for the requirements of his current projects – official or otherwise. He could play the gentle listener, he could give people exactly what they wanted, he knew what they expected.

Most of the people who worked with him were dull. Interesting in their own way, in the complexity of their emotion – but he was excited for this one.

He would fix the kid, certainly – never let it be said he wasn't good at his job. The interesting thing would be what he fixed him into, what he uncovered, how he could use the knowledge to keep his own secrets and agendas safer, how the kid could be shaped.

"What kind of parent would do that, I wonder?" Richards' voice was very soft now, and watched Vale with a gaze so intent that it was like being poked with a bunch of sharp little twigs.

The boy simply looked at him in the eye. It was an open challenge –according to what he had learned down there- to avoid eye contact would be a sign of submission. He had to think of a strategy now, he didn't know if upon arrival he would be interrogated or caged like a beast.

"Parent?" Vale asked almost rhetorically, finishing with an incredulous laugh. "Parent, you say? You know nothing of which you speak." He hissed, cursing the way his time down there had affected his speech.

_Dûzangann._

Richards stood up suddenly, and Vale found himself dropping into a tense crouch, flames licking at his throat. It would be unwise to kill that man, after all he was the one controlling the jet.

"But of course, you wouldn't think of Belloc as your parent." Richards continued with his musings. "Not after that…" and Vale could practically see the turning gears. "Judging by your reactions, your family's safety is the most important thing to you."

Vale tensed, muscles coiling in preparation for a fight. He could feel the breath in his lungs pulsing and pulsing and pulsing.

"Let's put it this way. Your cooperation ensures your family's safety."

He didn't need to clarify what that mean. He looked at the man in front of him and saw another being. Hate burned in his heart so deep that it was ingrained in the tissue.

All rational thinking momentarily vanishing, Vale lunged at him, claws extended and mouth open in a silent snarl.

He has to look out for his siblings He prom-

He promised. He knows he promised.

Who did he promise to?

Who did-

Richards easily sidestepped the attack, sighing and looking infuriatingly calm. "I knew you would react that way."

"You sheep!" Vale said, his voice having an echo like a snarl. "You try to harm them –you even have the slightest intention- and I rip your throat out! I swear I _will_ kill you!" and he felt the oath in his bones –a weight setting, and a sound like a key locking- but he didn't care.

Richards didn't seem even remotely concerned by the death threat.

"I want to help you," Richards said, merely content on waiting until Vale had calmed down enough. "Do call it a neglected duty if you'd like."

How dared that man, trying to harm his family –_golden beings he had the pleasure of having met_, he corrected himself.

"You are different than the average human, aren't you?" Richards evaded his eyes as he paced, his eyes wide and burning with something Vale thought wasn't anger. "Probably your entire nervous system, your skeleton… It's remarkable."

He gave Vale a thoughtful glance. "And that's dangerous," he murmured. "Did no one tell you that? When you –and I don't mean a normal human, but _you_\- are too driven you instincts, then you become more and more like an animal. But you're getting to be—what? Well, feral. The way you are."

He shook his head. "You're already pretty far gone. You barely think of yourself as human anymore, do you?"

Vale didn't say anything. Why should he? He was not human, and he had been forced to not think as one for a very long time.

"You could achieve something, if you know so much and you don't vanish into being a beast before you reach fourteen," said Richards briskly. "So I'll make sure that you make something of yourself—other than a creature. Whether or not you want to."

He needn't to learn anything this man wanted to teach him. He learned the power of words. The power of knowledge. The power of fear and despair. He learned how to be a slave. He learned how to betray a master without his knowledge. He learned tricks and lies and the power of his own mind.

Shields, guns, technology. What they all have in common? They can be taken away. What he had learned, cannot.

Make something of himself…ha. It's for your own good. Lies. They were all lies. They wanted information, didn't they? They wanted a soldier. Someone who would obey their command.

It surely was disturbing, how alike people from opposing sides were. The only difference between the black and the white pieces is their color, after all. They are all the same to their counterparts.

Obedience had only led him to pain. He wouldn't be on anyone's side. He would ensure his family and friends would be safe, and then he would make his decisions.

He was distracted by a faint sound, long before the jet had touched ground. He could hear hearts beating, people breathing, from up in the air. If he focused enough, he could hear about who did what and who cheated on who and why so and so was stupid all the way back, from those who didn't believe in working in silence –or were those thoughts? He did not have time to check- but most of all was drowned by the sound of drums,most beating at different paces, everyone'd hearts. Sings that people were alive and well. Sure some were faster than others, some slower than others, but each and every life force in the rapidly approaching ground was most certainly alive.

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers.**

**I am aware this is moving pretty slow, and I apologize if it's bothersome.**

**Well...I hope you all liked the chapter...tell me your opinion please!**

**H. E. B.**


	36. Block 5

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

**Seriously, people, review.**

**WARNING, THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M+**

* * *

When Jaio saw the new boy accompanying the other human scum to a room they knew very well, his very first thought was that there was no way in hell that _that_ could actually be a Kaiju. It had to be the son of one of the scientists.

The new boy stood quietly beside the visiting general. His face was very calm. That was very odd. His hair was blond and quite untidy. It had recently been trimmed. His legs were long and slender. They looked like the legs of a girl, he smirked. The new boy wore simple brown shoes. His socks were white and clean, without a single smudge or stain. His large eyes looked almost sleepy, and were a simple brown. He could not have been more than twelve years old.

The supervisors were all very interested in the new boy. They hovered around him like starving vultures. He really could not blame them for staring; he was only eighteen centuries, but looking at the new boy made him feel… really, really weird.

A brown haired woman, a doctor, was staring at the boy with particularly eager eyes.

Every Kaiju in The Kindergarten knew that look, and what it meant (or would mean if the child was one of them). The new boy was not going to last a month. None of Peterson's favorites ever did. She and the other scientists played rough, and they tended to break their toys… literally. The lucky ones were those who stopped being useful real fast. The lucky ones had managed not to break before they became bored. They got scars from a thousand wounds, and bruises, and repeatedly broken bones, but at least they survived. One or two had broken and gone crazy.

He almost pitied the new boy.

Jaio himself was not a particularly useful male. His scales were too soft to be an impenetrable armor. He had very pronounced jaws with relatively large, protruding teeth.

Anything that made you stand out generally put you in very big trouble. Everyone knew what happened to nails that stood out. Soldiers could not be individuals. War machines could only be war machines.

It was clear to him that the new boy would never be a soldier. Not with that face. Not with those long, slender legs.

He stared. He could not help it.

Apparently his gaze was hard enough to catch the other boy's attention, because at that point the newcomer turned, and glanced over at him.

And that was when it happened.

Their eyes met, and held. Immediately, his breath caught.

_He saw it._

It was something inside those eyes that immediately captivated him. It was a strange and very alluring_ thing_ that he could sense living inside the other boy. It felt… it almost was… like…charisma? ...Magnetism? …Power?

No. That was not it. Those words were not enough.

He knew no words for what it was he saw.

It was deep and dark and weird and made no sense. He had no idea what it was. All he knew was that he was recklessly drawn to it. Unconsciously, he found himself leaning forward. The act was purely instinctive. He was completely absorbed by the other boy, and too utterly entranced by what he was seeing inside him to notice the fact that his body had moved. The raw, almost desperate yearning on his own face would have appalled him if he had known it was there.

The new boy turned away at once.

His breath caught. He jerked back as if he had been slapped.

Then his eyes narrowed, and he glared.

Jaio was furious.

And to think he had almost felt sorry for the snobby bastard!

The fingers that were resting under him were actually shaking with a mixture of very childish hurt and anger.

He wiped his eyes, sniffed, and frowned.

It was stupid to cry over something like this. He was far too old for this crap. He had not cried over anything for over the thirteen years he had been trapped. He wasn't about to start because of this.

Babies cried, not people who dreamed of conquering the world.

After several deep breaths, he calmed down a little. There really was no point getting upset. Not when he knew what was going to happen to the new boy (or could have, but Jaio liked to fantasize). It had happened to all of them, no matter how tough they had once thought that they were.

When a newcomer was brought into their area, the one with Kaiju in 'teenage' years, he was immediately moved into Block Number 5, which was a temporary boarding facility. All newcomers were expected to remain there for preliminary profiling, and medical, physical and psychological exams. It was a process that generally took about a week. Once all the test results were in, the child would be given a number, and then assigned to a cage. There were usually four boys in each area, and interactions between the cagemates were very carefully monitored. The floor overall had more or less 20 rooms, Jaio thought.

Jaio's number was 37.

Everyone in there knew that there were certain tests carried out in Block Number 5 that were strictly off the record.

There was one test in particular that was carried out in the room the boys called the 'initiation room.'

It was an open secret that the authorities in charge did nothing about. Everyone knew that the 'initiation' was regarded as an unofficial part of the experiment itself.

The purpose of MEGTAF not bothering to kill them was to breed the perfect soldiers; to create a secret military force that would obey any order that they were given without question. The place bred you to have no past, no future and no conscience. After, you lost all understanding of the concept of emotion. You did not know mercy and you lost the capacity to feel remorse. You became a machine without a soul that hid itself in flesh. You were frankly capable of doing _anything _you were ordered to without thinking twice_._

And as unscrupulously evil and nauseatingly _foul_ as the idea was, the fastest way to strip a child of his self worth, his free will, and ultimately his humanity, was by a clinical and studied application of brutal, consistent and dehumanizing physical and emotional abuse. The combined trauma usually eroded his self esteem and made him question any values and any sense of right and wrong, or any consciousness of his own individuality and self worth he might have once had. Ultimately, it made him more open to suggestion, easier to control, easier to instruct, and easier to indoctrinate.

Animals were a lot easier to train than human beings, than Kaiju. And that was what that grooming process did. It removed everything that made you from you. It turned you into an unthinking beast that could easily be trained and controlled.

The Authorities in charge of it knew this far too well. The torture and frequently recurring abuse were just as vital to achieving their goals as were the unconventional use of drugs, the hypnosis, the electroshock treatments, the occasional sleep deprivation and constant interrogations.

Not all the boys in MEGTAF understood this, but he did.

And that was _exactly_ why he was already a leader of his cagemates.

He looked at the new boy and smiled. It was a nasty, vindictive little smile.

Sometimes, when the population grew too high, they grouped Kaiju in cages. Sometimes they didn't even bothered checking up on them. If only that were to happen to that boy…

He wondered just how smug that boy would be when his high and mighty face was covered in cuts and bruises. He doubted the new boy would remain _that_ stuck-up after repeatedly taking it up his ass like a back-alley whore.

He certainly looked like the type who would enjoy it, he thought spitefully.

But even as he thought this, his gut told him without equivocation that that person would never submit to anyone. He was angry, however, so he firmly ignored it. It was far more therapeutic to dismiss the other boy as a worthless catamite.

The truth was that here, there were those who did enjoy it. None of them had at first, but few had soon learned to. Some of them, like him, still hated it in spite of the occasional pleasure. He could tolerate the other things if he had to, there were even some things he would cautiously admit felt really good, but not… that.

At least he was fairly lucky. He did not have to deal with that all that time anymore, just twice a month or so, and a bit more if he wasn't careful.

He was usually very careful.

And he had even that much respect because he had fought for it. He had clawed, fought, manipulated, and murdered his way up to this level. He was a fighter; the leader of his own group for that matter. MEGTAF was a place that separated wolves from sheep, and separated the pack leaders from the ordinary wolves. He was young, but he was a pack leader. Every boy in the section knew him. He was tough, and his followers were tough too. They were not the strongest, but they were strong enough to survive, and were already planning how to escape from there. And the physical strength his group lacked was made up for by their ability to control and manipulate others. His little group had some of the best brainwashers and psychological terrorists in the Kindergarten. The boys in his group were not all that big… the oldest among them was twelve centuries and the youngest was five, but they rarely lost any fight, physical or mental, that they got into. The only people who really scared them were the humans, and some of the bigger kids, who they stayed away from.

That was how you survived here.

The constant, violence and occasionally fatal skirmishes between various groups were fairly normal. The routine tests, constant drugging, unpredictable experiments, and humiliating interrogations were enough trouble without having to worry about getting your ass kicked, getting raped by one of the perpetually horny puberty- ridden seniors, or getting killed outright.

But at least, he no longer had to worry too much about rape anymore. The supervisors usually gave the leaders some respite, provided they kept their 'little gangs' in order.

He doubted that arrogant new boy would last long enough in this place to earn even that level of respect.

Still, for all his anger, he knew what he had seen in those eyes. When you became the leader of a group, you soon learned to distinguish stupid little sheep from wolves. The more wolves you had on your side, the better. However, you also had to be able to tell that a wolf was a pack leader the minute you saw it. Knowing how to do this was very important. Having two pack leaders in one group only caused trouble. He knew. That was how he had become the leader of his group, the group that had been before the War. Their last boss has not been able to tell the difference between an ordinary wolf and a pack leader. That had been very sad.

It was strange how you really could achieve a lot of great things with just a rock, especially when you took your time to sharpen it to a really fine point.

He smiled softly at the memory.

He had honestly enjoyed himself, giggling enthusiastically while his former boss writhed and bled and struggled and screamed until his throat gave out. The other boys had stared in horror while collectively struggling not to throw up. No one in their group dared to question his authority after watching him play his jiggle the rock game, and his position as leader was firmly established when the healers reported that even if, by some miracle, their former leader had managed to survive the physical damage to his brain, he would never have been able to see with _that_ eye ever again.

It was no surprise that he fully appreciated how important it was to recognize a pack leader when he saw one.

And that was why the indifferent message in those eyes had _hurt_ him so much.

_Insignificant, presumptuous, unworthy peon; know your place, and stay in it._

Belatedly, he spotted a new, empty cage, and realized the boy had to be a Kaiju, like them (even though why would anyone go willingly there was a mystery to him). He hoped, earnestly, that someone would beat the conceited little bastard to death before the week ran out.

* * *

He was not the only one who noticed the new boy. The blonde had caused quite a stir.

"Wekir says Barnes breaks his arm before the week runs out."

"Nah. Too young. He is going try to be careful with this one. I'd say a month, maybe even two."

"Hey, what do you think? Wimp, Warrior or Whore?"

"Whore."A cold snicker, "Definitely whore."

"I was thinking Wimp. He looks like the type who'd cry for mommy while taking it."

"Did you take a good look at him? That ass says Whore."

"Face says Wimp, Dickhead."

"Wimp for three days, maybe, Whore after that."

In the collectively twisted logic of the children of the 'Kindergarten', a Wimp was a pathetic little scaredy cat who could easily be bullied into letting himself be abused. Such a child was a joke, nothing but potential cannon fodder, weak and absolutely useless. No one wanted wimps in their groups, and they were the ones who suffered the most in there, because everyone had a license to bully them. Even the lowest of the low could do whatever he wanted with a wimp.

A Whore was one who probably started out as a Wimp or Warrior, but soon started to enjoy it, and adapted accordingly. Whores were deceitful. You could not trust them. They were the ones who looked out for their own best interests, and had no interests except what would please them. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but it was something the leaders had to be careful to take note of. Whores were infinitely resourceful and could adapt to anything, and they had their peculiar uses. But having too many whores in one group almost always led to its downfall.

A Warrior was one who let it happen because he had no choice, he was forced to, but even so he kept trying to fight, or at least talk his way out of it. It was understood that no child would ever be able to prevent the abuse from happening, no matter what he did or how much he fought. But making a reasonable attempt to stop it was what actually separated the true fighters from the victims. True Warriors were rare. They were the wolves. They were the useful ones. The ones that were always sought after by and fought over by rival gangs.

It was all primarily a thing of status.

The weird thing, he realized, was that it never crossed any of their minds that the boy might just possibly be a Warrior.

He did not blame them. They had not looked into that boy's eyes. They had only seen the face and slender body.

But he had seen those eyes, and he had a gut feeling. His instincts about people were rarely ever wrong.

Besides, no wimp or whore could make _him_ of all people cry like an _ordinary_ babe just by looking at him.

He knew that the boy was not just a wolf, not just a pack leader. He was something far more threatening. But he also knew that, for some reason he himself did not fully understand, he wanted the new boy in his group. It was just a simple feeling he had. His group mostly survived on being able to manipulate and control others. That boy belonged with his own group and no one else's.

If he won this bet, he would have first dibs.

He was not one to pass up a chance to get in an advantage.

"Your dinners for a week for me and my boys. Warrior."

Make that two advantages.

Everyone stared at him. Then as a group, they burst into loud, uproarious laughter.

"Good one." "Didn't see that coming." "Warrior? Ha!" "Yeah right."

"I was not joking"

Even the boys in his own group looked at him as if he had suddenly gone crazy.

Then 19, Kajeigh, snorted. He was one of the older ones; probably twenty one centuries. He was okay. Not as screwy as some of the other seniors, but you did not want to mess with him. The guy was huge. He was officially the biggest boy in the base now that his best friend, 17, Nihaa, was no longer there. It was sad because all the boys who had known him had really liked him. 17 had been the very definition of a Gentle Giant… extremely tall, a reasonable cross between lanky and muscular, with a thin face and a characteristically large, beaky nose. Those who could still remember 17 knew that he had been one of the kindest boys who had ever lived in there… But that did not mean that he was a pushover. Get on his wrong side, and he went 'Magnificent Heisha' on your ass. During his stay, every single inmate developed a very healthy respect for his ability to beat people to bloody, pulpy corpses with nothing but his fists.

When 17 was here, he and 19 had been regarded as the strongest boys in the Zone 55, but he could always be counted on to curb some of his best friend's excesses.

But 17 was gone. And 19 was examining the smaller boys with a very predatory smirk.

And he was a guy with a reputation for raw, unrestrained, brutality, and who was almost impossible to take down in a fight. Unlike his friend, he was not a nice guy; the only thing that was even remotely sentimental about him was his fondness for their weekly ration of gazelles. He also had a reputation for being as horny as hell. It was a terrible thing, because he was famous for not being as considerate as someone of his remarkable size should have been.

This quality did not bode well for the wary little boys he was studying. Sexual intimidation among the test subjects was technically forbidden in there, but that had never stopped anyone before.

He looked squarely into 37's eyes.

"You are very sure of yourself, aren't you?" He sneered. "What's your stake then, Bitch?"

It was suddenly very quiet. The crowd of hard eyed boys watched; their mouths twisted in cold, borderline indifferent smiles.

Jaio did not flinch. He maintained eye contact and did not back down.

"Dinners for Dinners," he said. "For one week."

"Dinners for dinners," he agreed. "And then, after you have lost the bet, you and your lucky little bitches also get to suck our cocks on demand for the full week."

Everyone was immediately very interested. Whooping, hollering, whistling, crude comments, harsh laughter and catcalls filled the air. The older boys were positively leering.

The younger boy's group members were not happy. Most of them could barely hide their alarm.

Jaio remained absolutely calm.

As soon as the bigger boys had gone, he closed his eyes as, mentally, his group gathered around him, alarmed, panicked, and angry. They asked him, among other less savory things, just what the hell he thought he was doing.

He laughed in his quiet, peculiar way.

"Just wait." was all he said. "You'll see."

Some rolled their eyes. Some grumbled. Some moaned. They really hated it when he went all mysterious on them.

He arched a thin, angular eyebrow. "You know, you guys really could show _some_ faith in your leader." His eyes narrowed, but his lips remained stretched out in an incongruously cheerful smile. "I feel very upset about this."

Yes, they really hated it when he went all mysterious on them. But they had to admit it was much better than when he went utterly, nastily, bat-shit insane.

So collectively, they backed off. They all knew that their leader was vindictive enough not to forget any boy who actually questioned his authority. It was far better than getting themselves killed in surprisingly… creative ways, or worse, being talked into killing each other.

It never occurred to them to think that they might actually win the bet.

* * *

_...she was laughing. Her eyes were bright as she ran around the field of wildflowers. The sunlight turned her hair into gold._

_Colors were so strangely vivid around her; bright and unreal, like pages in a children's storybook._

_They hurt his eyes, made them water._

_Fairytale princesses, shiny castles…_

_Hungry, hungry monsters..._

It was not just his eyes that hurt. His throat still hurt, from all the screaming.

But he wouldn't think of the pain. It only hurt if he acknowledged that it was there.

They wore long white coats and severe expressions. He had seen the type before.

He was not allowed to speak. He had tried. They shot something up his arm.

That was when the pain, the dizzying nausea started, and the colors began to hurt his eyes. He could not stop his body from shivering. He shook even harder when his clothes were removed, barely noticing the surprisingly gentle hands that dressed him in the rough cotton of the hospital gown, and helped him to the table to lie down.

The table was cold. The straps were colder. The lights overhead shone directly in his face, blazing without apology as the gentle hands moved, efficiently taping electrodes to his body.

This was an experiment. They had said.

"No anesthesia for you, unfortunately. It seems you have been a very wicked little boy."

And then there was more pain. Sudden, harsh and blinding.

They broke something under his nose. It had a sickeningly sweet smell… rather like rotten apples.

They hadn't done that before. Funny.

Suddenly his whole body tingled, relaxing. He felt very pleasantly warm and strangely euphoric.

The pain was still there. But it did not matter anymore. Best of all, now he could see her more clearly.

_She was wearing the light blue summer dress she had that day, before they captured him._

"_Vale, you connected again?" she broke into a wide smile but then her face grew puzzled._

"_This is the third time today." Her voice was worried. "Are you sure everything is alright? What are they doing to you? I wish you would let me see…"_

"_Not today." He said firmly, "Another day, I think."_

"_Why?" She pouted. "Not fair. I show you everything. Why can't you show me?"_

"_It isn't interesting. I'm in MEGTAF, Lele. I hope you can get Mom and Dad to get me out of here?"_

_The girl's face was resolute, though he knew there would be questions later._

The hands were on him again. It was a nurse. A woman, he realized with some surprise. That was why her hands had been so gentle.

Clearly, they were not regular staff. Had they been called in?

He wondered if she was a mother. It was hard to tell with a figure like hers. It was clear she often worked with children. But there was something about the gentle way she had touched him… A longing sadness. The way this woman touched him… with that tender, wistful melancholy that indicated she also might have lost a child of her own.

He wished he could ask. Her story would have been very interesting... and useful.

It would have distracted him from this pain a little, at the very least.

She leaned over him to adjust the electrode on his right temple. She smelled like flowers, and vanilla, and musk and female and other earthier, more interesting, elusively familiar things. The sweet scent of flowers and vanilla underlined that other primal, more organic, almost recognizable smell.

"_What is that smell?"_

Were nurses usually allowed to wear perfume? He wondered. Was this all perfume?

"_A woman." he replied._

Her hand absently stroked his head, and then she moved over to adjust the other. Her eyes were strangely distant. Like him, she was not quite there.

He wondered who she talked to inside her head. The child she had lost perhaps?

"_What does she look like? I can't see."_

Her face was still young. She was slender and beautiful in a classic, chiseled sport of way. Her lips were painted a very deep red.

"_Blonde, like me. But her eyes are green."_

He stared at her in fascination.

Her smell was strangely exciting, strangely heady.

Oh, he knew now. He had smelled it before.

The smell of recent sex.

Her fingers lingered on his face.

"What are you trying to do, seduce the patient?" A masculine voice teased. But there was an edge to it that indicated that the man was not actually joking.

Her sexual partner, apparently. Six full feet of domineering, jealous, territory marking, laughably insecure male.

Adults were such_ funny_ creatures.

"Really sir" She replied, laughing softly. "He isn't old enough for that. It's just," Her voice grew softer, more wistful, "Sebastian might have looked like this… if he survived…"

He absolutely enjoyed being right.

"_What are you smiling at, Valen?"_

"_Nothing really. The blonde, I suppose."_

She had moved back. Her mildly intoxicating scent was no longer filling his nostrils.

Clearly she did not want to upset the man she slept with.

"_Is she a nice lady?"_

_Was sleeping with the boss any indication? He wondered dryly._

"_Hard to say" He replied. "The evidence indicates that she might be rather naughty."_

"_What are you babbling about now?"_

Skin pale as snow. Lips red as blood...

"_You don't want to know, trust me."_

"_You and your silly little secrets..."_

He idly wondered how Sebastian had died. She probably would like to see her son again.

_"What are they doing? Is she kind to you?"_

_How sweet she was, so thoughtfully and compassionately sticking electrodes around his head…_

_He smiled dryly._

"_Not really, but…"_

He broke off.

"_But what?"_

He was thinking of fairy tales again.

She would not look very different as a corpse, lying in a glass coffin, surrounded by roses, red and white.

"_Vale, can you hear me?"_

Lips pale as snow. Blood, red as… blood. Red as only blood could be…

Stupid drugs, whatever they were, making him think such inane things.

" _She's very pretty."_

"_Pretty?"_

"_Yes." He confirmed, with a smile that meant so much more than the word could convey._

_His sister scrunched up her face._

"_Boys!" She tossed her red head in disgust. "Really, is that all you can think about?"_

_He smiled._

"_She isn't prettier than you, just… developed."_

"_That was not the point, and eww, by the way."_

_He laughed._

"Amyl nitrate…" "Patient responsive…" "Apparently quite effective"… "Clear indication of successful dissociation…"

Another capsule was broken under his nose. The nurse leaned over him again with a face towel.

The towel smelled like lemons, contrasting a little unpleasantly with the perfume the nurse wore.

He wrinkled his nose

The nurse dipped the towel in warm water, and then squeezed it out. She began wiping down his neck.

_Still, one of them was safe. That was enough for now._

_She looked at his face. He had turned a very interesting shade of pink. His eyes were suspiciously shiny. "It'll be okay."_

_She stared, surprised._

"_Wait, you are actually...?" she smiled, and then her smile morphed into laughter. "I can't believe it. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone how secretly sentimental you are."_

"_I am not."_

"_Yes you are. You cry very easily for a boy, and at the oddest things."_

_He said nothing, merely turned his face away._

_She sat beside him, put her head on his shoulder._

_She smelled fresh, familiar, comforting. Clean like soap and talcum powder. Her skin was smooth and warm and made him shiver._

_He liked this scent better than the nurse's._

"Interesting series of reactions." One of the white coats observed, furiously scribbling something down on his clipboard. Other white coats gathered around the first, staring at their clipboards, then at the boy, making notes, debating questions about thresholds and sine wave stimuli and bilateral ETC and dose titration and the possibility of amyl nitrate compromising the results.

The nurse moved about as the doctors discussed. She removed the electrodes, then gave him a quick injection . "To help you sleep." she explained. "There won't be any more," she promised, "at least not today."

"_I have to go now" he said softly. "I'll be back"_

_She nodded. Her hair tickled his neck. He closed his eyes._

"_Okay."_

"_Later today, I think." He paused, opening his eyes to look at her. "You don't mind, do you?"_

"_Don't be silly, how could I?" She smiled, but then the smile faltered. "I have no idea what is happening to you. But…"_

The nurse had removed his restraints. She was tucking him in, as carefully as though he had been her own son.

She must have loved that child. How strange...

"…_You just came back, so please… be safe…"_

"_I will try. I promise."_

Then, he was fully back inside his head. Back in the MEGTAF quarters.

The pain was excruciating, but luckily, the urge to sleep was already stealing over his senses.

It was over, for today, at least.

They now knew. They would come.

The boy closed his eyes, and gratefully fell asleep.

* * *

Getting out of their cages was laughingly easy. The only reason they hadn't escaped was that they didn't know how to get out of the building itself. Human forms, sometimes, were really handy.

A group of five boys; the two group leaders, two others from each group and a judge they had both agreed on had gathered together. They hid silently, waiting in the almost freezing darkness by the entrance to Block 5.

Before long another boy joined them. He was number 26. A lean, curly haired eleven year old with a pale, cold, narrow face and black, colder, narrower eyes. After a promise of not trying to escape shortly after he accidentally transformed to his human form when they were interrogating him, he had been assigned to work in Block 5, running errands for the men who worked there. A go between of sorts, he often used his position to smuggle other boys inside the building for events like this. It was a very risky thing to do, but the benefits were enormous. None of the seniors were permitted to touch or harass him in any way. In return, he usually could be counted on to ensure that the other boys knew what was going on in Block 5, and that small numbers of them could actually sneak inside to watch for themselves from reasonably safe hiding places.

However, there was a problem today.

"I can't get you all in." He said. His voice was soft and raspy, already beginning to break with the onset of puberty. "The most I can manage today is two."

The other boys were not happy. They let him know this in very colorful terms.

"Look, there is nothing I can do tonight, alright? The supervisors are also interested; so the room is being monitored, and both rooms with two way mirrors are already taken. It is weird for so many of them to be so interested in an initiation." He curved his lips dryly. "It seems the new boy has gotten them all excited, but I doubt it is just because of his pretty face. Even Mr. Richards himself is coming down to watch tonight."

That came as a surprise. It was very strange for the man to show an interest in this particular extracurricular activity. Richards was not a pedophile. Everyone knew that the man was a pure intellectual. To him, the children were primarily test subjects; not human, fairly important but ultimately expendable tools for his research. His sole interest in the boys was academic. However, while he never personally abused any of them, he did not interfere with the abusive activities of the other instructors. He let them do just as they pleased as long as it did not interfere with the experiment. Indeed, the results of some of their abusive activities had certainly proved invaluable to his research.

The fact that he was coming to Block 5, personally, to watch the 'initiation' of a new test subject, was completely unprecedented. There was only one reason he would do such a thing; he expected something very unusual to happen. Something of invaluable academic interest.

19 began to look as if he was almost having second thoughts about going through with the bet. He gave the younger boy a very sharp look, wondering exactly what it was that he _knew_.

Jaio was silent, but his smile was wide enough to show large, gleaming fangs. His eyes were positively glowing with barely suppressed _excitement_.

The older boy grunted and looked away. He could not afford to call off the bet now; besides, he had to admit that he was curious. What was it that this tiny, crazily dangerous boy had seen in the new boy that excited him so much? What was it about the new boy that interested their supervisors so intensely?

"Let us both in then." He said quietly. He looked at the other boys. "Go back to the cage. You will hear from us soon." The other boys nodded and left, leaving the two group leaders alone with their go-between. "You can judge for us," he asked the eleven year old. "Right?"

26 nodded."Come on then." He said. "Follow me, and do not make a sound."

They followed the eleven year old, darting through narrow corridors and up a deserted flight of stairs.

"There are only two places that I figure will be fairly safe to watch from. I dug holes in the wall of the broom closet, and then there is the ventilation shaft, but that is too small, and far too risky with all the equipment they've put in."

The broom closet was small, and quite cramped. But neither boy complained. They were far too interested in watching what was going to happen. And it better be worth it, his human forms were something they didn't like to be in.

The holes provided a very clear view of the small, bare, windowless room dominated by wall to wall mirrors, with a narrow, single bed. The room was very brightly lit by several fluorescent bulbs. A single chair and a desk with a set of drawers were the only other furniture in the room. The new boy's clothes hung neatly from a peg on the wall.

The boy himself was in bed. He lay on his side, slightly curled up and faced away from the light. As they watched, his eyes opened. He turned, lay on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. A scant few seconds later, he was on his side again, facing away from them.

"A little restless, isn't he?" observed the older boy.

"His records did say he was a very light sleeper." Commented 26 softly.

The other boys looked at him incredulously.

"You read his file?!" exclaimed 19.

26 rolled his eyes. "The supervisors mentioned it." he said slowly, as if he was talking to idiots.

Jaio frowned. He really did not like the eleven year old's attitude. Their guide was about the only boy with an unlimited license to be rude, and he used it with impunity.

"They say he sleeps much better in the dark too," continued their guide, "Which is probably why they have left such bright lights on."

"Hmm," smirked the older boy. "Sick motherfuckers, aren't they?"

Their guide nodded briefly in agreement, a cold smile twisting his lips. "Of course, there is also the fact that he is not used to sleeping alone."

"He had a family?" asked the older boy somewhat dubiously.

"Parents, a brother and a little sister. They say they were very close… abnormally so. There was even some talk about running tests to determine whether they have some sort of telepathic bond."

The older boy scoffed.

"What happened to the sister, did you hear?" He asked, speaking up for the first time.

"They did not say much about her."

"Is she still alive though?" He pressed.

"I think so."He shrugged. "I suspect they put her in another area, since the director was rather upset about not being able to have access to her for some of the tests they planned to run. Zone 47 would be my guess. The doctor there has a reputation among our supervisors for being difficult. She coddles her guards, and she won't allow experiments on them. And refuses to let anyone touch her kids for any reason. I guess that's why they were upset. They cannot study the siblings as a pair if Ms Patel refuses to cooperate. That girl is very lucky."

"True. Did they say what she looked like?" The oldest asked curiously.

"I heard someone mention that she looks a lot like her brother."

"She must be hot then." 19 commented. "I'd definitely like to meet her." He added with a sly grin.

The two younger boys gave him a strange look.

"She… is… nine… years… old." 26 pointed out, very slowly, and very reasonably.

"She… has… a… pu…ssy." The teen replied bluntly. His tone was very matter of fact. "You know," he added wistfully, "it's been a quite a while since I've actually seen one of those. I miss them."

The guide looked at him with extreme disgust.

"You are a revolting pedophile."

"So is everyone else in the fucking building. Since when do you care?"

"Girls are different, asshole."

"Really? How so?"

"They are only good for sex when they've got boobs."

The older teen snorted.

"How naïve. You poor, little baby." He scoffed. "You still have much to learn about this cold, hard, wicked world."

"Would you two please keep it down?" interrupted Jaio. "Someone's coming in."

There was immediate silence. All three boys looked through their respective holes.

The New Boy was no longer lying down. He was sitting upright on the bed. The door in front of him was creaking open.

Before long, one of the supervisors walked in. He was a tall, muscular man with a harsh, square face and dark, close cropped hair. He wore a black t-shirt and military pants. His thin lips were curved upwards in a nasty smirk. His nostrils flared as he breathed, and his small, narrow eyes were fixed on the tiny boy on the bed.

All three boys watching recognized him very well.

Collectively, they shuddered.

But, scared nearly out of their wits though they were, they kept on watching. Their eyes widened in fascination and lingering traces of well remembered horror as the huge muscular man loomed over the tiny boy on the bed.

Only one of them noticed that the new boy did not seem the slightest bit afraid.

It did not surprise him at all.

The blonde looked up, considering the huge man analytically as he stood over him.

The new boy was silent. His expression was innocently tranquil. It seemed to unsettle the older man a bit.

"Nothing to say, Kid?"

The boy just stared at him.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

The boy just looked at him. His gaze was quietly analytical as the man studied him.

"Well, well. They _were_ right. You _really were_ very specially bred. I admire the attention to detail."

Quite suddenly, the boy began to laugh.

His laughter was loud, derisive, and uproarious.

The man was shocked, then supremely offended. He was accustomed to provoking several different reactions from boys in this situation. Mocking and uproarious laughter was not one of them.

"What the hell is your problem, Kid?"

"Forgive me." The boy replied, making a noble effort to suppress his laughter. "But I really couldn't help it. It is so funny, watching you. I _knew_ they would try something like this, and I knew they would send someone like you… but I honestly had not expected you to be so… pathetic."

The man was taken aback. He pulled back slightly and frowned.

"You wanna get beat up, kid?"

"Not really." The boy assured him politely. "You'd kill me. Besides, I was under the impression that you were sent here to do a lot worse than beat me up." The boy lifted genuinely curious brown eyes to the older man's face. "Why would you try to turn your precious experiment into something like this?"

"Your file was right about you. You _are_ a pretty devious kid. And you ask too many damn questions." Richards was incredibly glad the boy wouldn't remember their first encounter for a few hours. Drugs tended to mess with the head.

"I think I have a right to know some basic things about you."

"You have no rights here. And believe me, you are getting it a lot easier than the unfortunate little bastards who came before you, so quit yapping and enjoy this while you can. The others will not be as nice as me."

The older man frowned.

"I can figure out the answers myself." The man said quickly, diverting his attention from whatever he had been planning to say. "You want me to try?"

"Don't get cocky."

"I am sorry. But I could not help it. I find you rather… interesting."

The child went still. He looked up, at the man's face. "Color me jaded, but that is to be expected. Keep talking, and I will show you how much more 'interesting' I can get."

"A reversal of roles, is it?" The man's voice was soft.

The child went very still.

He looked up at the man's face. His eyes were wide. His face had suddenly paled.

The child subtly moved away. The man looked serene, almost sleepy, but the gleam in the heavy lidded eyes was incongruously alert, annoyingly smug and very quietly dangerous.

"Don't look so shocked. I told you I would figure it out." His smile grew pitying. "So who was it then? An Uncle? A teacher? A Big Brother?" He arched an inquiring brow "Or was it… Your own father?"

As sleepy and delicate as he looked, the new boy could move extremely fast when he had to. It was a good thing. If he had been a second slower, he wouldn't have been able to attempt to hit him. The gun on the man's hand stopped him.

"Ah, so I was right." He smirked "_It was your father_."

He darted to the left in just enough time to avoid another bone crushing blow. He stood firmly balanced, bare feet apart on the cold floor, poised to move again if he had to.

His face was calm. His lips were curved in a cool, subtly mischievous smile. It amazed everyone watching that the man could remain so completely unperturbed after dexterously avoiding the boy's furious attacks. The child's unbuttoned pajama top hung open. His bottoms rode so low that they threatened to expose him. His blonde hair was completely tousled.

His eyes were as hard as steel.

There was no melting vulnerability on display in those eyes; they lacked even the smallest trace of fear. The boy looked disheveled, and generally disreputable. But his face was serene; his expression was utterly composed as he considered his attacker.

"Please calm down." The older said politely "Try taking deep breaths. It usually helps to cool the temper." The man's smile was almost cynical. "I apologize if I touched a nerve."

"God, this kid is fucking crazy," said the older teen in the broom closet.

"No." said Jaio, fidgeting restlessly and breathing heavily with an excitement he could barely contain. His grin was wide and his eyes were glowing. There wasn't any smell or quick heartbeat- it was all fake. _This_ was what he had seen. _This _was the master of pack leaders at work, and it surpassed all his expectations. "He isn't crazy. He's _Brilliant_."

Both boys in the closet gave him a very strange look.

Then suddenly 19 smiled.

"You have a boner, don't you?" He smirked.

Immediately, Jaio turned bright red.

"Shut up!"

He was very glad that the closet was too dark to let the other two see his telltale blush.

The older teen snickered. 26 sighed tolerantly.

Inside the mirrored, brightly lit room, the bigger man took several deep breaths, and struggled to match his victim's calmness.

"You have a smart mouth, don't you, sheep?" The child growled. "You should be very careful what you say."

"Was I wrong then?" The man asked innocently.

"You were completely and utterly wrong."

"I was?"

"Yes!" He barked.

"Forgive me, but I do not agree." The man placed his hands thoughtfully behind his back. He considered the boy with speculative eyes. "The facts here speak for themselves." His eyes narrowed. "Why do you try so hard to prove that you are strong? Why is your need to prove it so desperate? Just who are you trying to please?" The man tilted his head inquiringly. "I wonder; it is because it all has to work according to the script you have written in your head?"

"What?"

"It is a play, isn't it? A little drama you acted with your father for years… and you were the one who always played the weak and helpless part; the one who would end up being used and thrown away. You were the one who was worthless, who was ultimately not loved."

The man smiled up at the ashen face of the child.

"My observation surprises you?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why should it? It is so obvious. There is nothing really unique about you. You are very transparent… and as I pointed out before, rather pathetic." He smiled "Even a child can see that you are terribly frightened of becoming the weak one again. You try to intimidate people because it gives you a temporary illusion of power. You obey the people you care about you because you want them to value you. You try to buy their love by giving them the sort of protection you know will need. You make them need you, because it makes you feel relevant when they do. It was the same with your father, wasn't it? You struggled to buy his love by pleasing him, because in your heart you knew that all you were to him was a tool. You were not his son. You were a cheap piece of equipment; a convenient little receptacle that he would use anytime he felt the urge, and toss aside when he was done."

"That is a lie!"

"Did it work, selling your will to your father? Did it buy you the love you so desperately wanted?" The man's smile was full of pity "Somehow, I doubt it." He smirked.

"You can claim all you want that it is just part of your experiment, that you do what you have to do for science, and for the glory of this country, but that does not change the fact that you are essentially a murderer…a disgusting killer, just like the Kaiju you hunt." The child had seemingly composed himself, eyes blazing. "So shut up!"

"Really, two way mirrors." The man smiled scornfully at the men he could not see, who watched from behind the glass. "Tacky, and crass" His gaze slid back to the child. "You did not change much, did you? You really would do anything to please those you see as father figures, wouldn't you? You know that they are watching, and you do things like this in front of them. You provide entertainment for favors and material benefit. I must confess that I do not know a whole lot about these things, but that _is_ the definition of prostitution without sexual things being thrown in, isn't it?"

The man made no attempt to run as the boy stalked towards him. There was no need to. He could clearly see that the boy was beginning to break.

"Shut up!" His eyes were wild. His voice was shaking. "You can't talk like this! You can't know these things! Stop talking about stuff you don't _fucking _understand!"

The man's eyes were brown and tranquil. They stared into the eyes of the boy.

"What about your sister?" He asked, softly.

The boy froze.

"All those times you let yourself be hurt to satisfy your father's anger, where was she?" The man studied him. "Did she know?"

The child said nothing. His expression gave the man all the answers he needed.

The man smiled, clearly _savoring_ the child's agony.

"She was there, wasn't she?" He said softly. "She knew." He smiled. "She did not like it, did she? She must have resented you. Maybe she even hated you for going away. She must have been so disgusted at the sight of you. I am sure she regretted it… being near you_. She probably _regretted every single day that she had ever carried a secret so dirty and shameful inside her. I am sure there were times she looked at you, and you looked deep into her eyes, and you could feel her wishing that you were dead… that you did not exist at all. You felt it when she smiled at you, didn't you? Her eyes were always cold, weren't they? And you knew. You knew it was because those eyes did not see her brother. They saw an empty, loathsome thing that they silently wished would just disappear."

"That is not true! She loves me!"

"Does she?" The man asked. "I can't pretend to know what it was like for you. I wasn't there, so perhaps I am wrong." He shrugged "But this really has nothing to do with me. It is all about you. It is your own past. Think about it; remember those things you know, those secrets you will never tell a soul, those memories of your mother that hurt you to contemplate. Everyone has them, you know. Think about the things you have told no one, and then ask yourself, does she love you? Can you truly convince yourself that she does? Could she really love a person like you? Was there anything remotely lovable about the polluted, sinful, disgusting thing that you are? Do you honestly think that people like you truly deserve to be loved… or even to live?"

The boy was quiet. His eyes were wide as they stared at the man.

"There is a reason you don't have many friends. If your own sister could not love you, what woman would? If your own father could only see you as a thing he could use, what value does your existence have? If the very girl you share your life with could hate you enough to wish you dead, what reason do you have to live?"

The man studied him under half closed lashes. His voice was a soft, almost sleepy alto.

"Do you want to know why I think that you are pathetic? It isn't because of your parents, or your childhood. It is not even because of your pitiful, ham fisted attempt to attack me. It is because you are in pain. It rots you from inside and you are sick with it, but instead of doing what you know you should do to end it, you spread your pain around, like a _disease_. You infect innocent children's lives, and contaminate them with your own worthlessness. And when you do this, you increase the number of people who ultimately despise you. This is why you are pathetic. You are such a coward. You lack the simple ability to face up to your responsibilities and end the diseased blight that is your existence. "

The boy at first looked dazed and confused, attempting to understand what he was looking at. Then his eyes hardened.

#Because as they made eye contact, Vale had felt the pounds beneath his skin and his bone and the memories bawling in his brain. And it had hurt. It had hurt so much. It had reminded him of everything he was trying to run away from. A place that couldn't be called home. Someone that couldn't be called a father.

Crushes and hits. Familiar rhythms. Foreign place. Stone ground. Red stained rocks. Screams. Punches. Tears. Hiding under places. Scrambling into cracks. Eyes closed. Mouth shut. Don't breathe.

_I'm right here._

He wanted to shout.

_Look at me._

_#_

Jaio saw that the child's eyes eclipsed. He was no longer eyeing the man, ready to break. More like a mountain lion methodically tracking his prey. That ring of green was bright and still, unwavering, locked and trained to Richards' face.

He saw the child's magic respond, and knew that he'd do something drastic.

Gales of wind ripped through his hair and smarted his cheeks. Intermittent flashes of light strobed over and over. Each flash left an imprint behind. Sound was still there though. A thunderous whip cracked at each flash of light, mixing with the man's screams.

The booming noise started slow in pace, but quickened, until it was the only thing he could hear. He wanted to scream too. Anything to drown out that god awful noise. Metallic ionized air filled his nose. He stared wide-eyed into the room, watching a series of image unfold like a damaged movie reel, frame by frame, flicking disjointedly.

_"SHOULD I SHOW YOU WHAT HE DID TO ME?"_

_Flash._ The man, wailing, one hand out to protect his face, one hand for the door. A humanoid, ignited thing.

_Flash. _A vision assaulted him. He was in a dark, damp room. It smelled strongly of copper. Directly across from him lay over a body as if tossed aside. A buzz hummed in his ears.

_Flash. _The room again. The man, halfway out the door. A twisted voice screamed inside his head, teasing, in a sing-song tone, "_AM I SCARY NOW?"_

Jaio was frozen. The floor underneath his palms shuddered as something heavy thudded, several times. The lights popped back on and the noise abruptly stopped. Jaio breathed shallowly, eyes wide, staring dazedly around at the room. He felt like he had just experienced something akin to whiplash.

The memories hadn't overwhelmed him yet, but they sure would, soon. He vaguely took notice that the man was no longer there.

The boy turned and quietly began to button up his shirt. He climbed back into his narrow bed, pulled the thin covers up to his chest and clutched them to himself in that peculiar, endearing manner common among children everywhere.

He was just a boy, when all was said and done.

"I'm tired." His voice was polite. "I want to sleep now. If you have nothing else to do here, please leave."

In a daze, Jaio realized he was speaking to _them_.

"Oh and if you don't mind, get one of _them _to turn the lights out. The experiment should be over for tonight. The very least you people can do is let me sleep."

Completely docile, 19 said 'Uh-huh'

"Thank you. Good night."

They left. A few minutes afterward, the lights in the room dimmed, then went out altogether.

There was complete silence in the walk back to their cages.

"Holy shit." 19 murmured in awe, breaking the silence. 'Holy Fucking Shit!"

"Warrior" 26 breathed. "Definitely warrior."

"I believe," said Jaio smugly, "Your boys owe mine dinners for a week…" he grinned.

* * *

"_You will know they are done" 26 had said, "when the screaming stops."_

Jaio watched as one by one, the doctors began to file out of the room.

"_There will be a team of four," 26 had said. "Three new Doctors, one Military Physician and a Registered Nurse."_

37 counted the party as they filed out of the room, recalling 26's instructions as he watched the team leave.

So far so good.

"_The boy will be given drugs to ensure that his condition is stable. After some time, he will be brought back to Block 5. There will be a ten minute interval during which no one is likely to be inside the room with him. Target that time. You might be able to talk with him before he falls asleep."_

26 had better have been right about that, he thought. The information had better be worth it, or there would be hell to pay.

Looking about him carefully, he began to move, silently cursing the limp that slowed him down as he walked.

Ten minutes was not a lot of time.

Finally, he made it. He took a deep breath, and then he pushed the door open.

The new boy was asleep. He was impossibly paler than he had been before, and had clearly lost an unhealthy amount of weight. Angry red patches of skin showed where the electrodes had been placed. There were dark circles under his eyes. His breathing was labored, stertorous, as if the very act of drawing air in caused him indescribable pain.

He looked like a ghost.

Carefully, 37 walked to the sleeping boy's side.

He was here now, but he had no idea what to do.

How ironic.

He hated seeing the other boy like this. At this rate, the boy was going to die.

And yet his beauty was undeniable; far more compelling.

It occurred to him that this was how the humans wanted them to be, thin to the point of anorexia, broken by pain, submissive, and helpless to fight back.

But he was not giving up hope. Not yet. The thing he had seen in this boy's eyes would not be broken so easily. Not by this.

He needed him to survive. He had his dreams, the things he wanted to become. He knew, instinctively, that this boy was the only chance he would probably have of making it out of this hellhole alive.

"Hey." He prodded the boy's bony shoulder. "Hey. Wake up."

The boy did not move.

He had been drugged. Clearly, this was going to take a while.

Sighing, he let go and looked at the round, white clock on the wall.

Seven more minutes.

He reached out to try again.

Before his fingers made contact, the sleeping boy's hand darted out.

The reflexive movement was unexpectedly precise. It was the same precision he had displayed that night, weeks ago, while repeatedly trying to attack that officer.

His grip, even in his weakened state, was surprisingly very strong. Instinctively, 37 pulled back, trying to break free, but the other boy did not loosen his hold at all.

He opened his mouth to protest, looked up, and froze.

The new boy's eyes were wide open. They were clear, unforgiving, icy, and fixed squarely on 37. The killing intent in them was unmistakable.

"_Electroshock messes with the victims head." 26 had said. "So if you do manage to wake him up, be very careful. Do not expect that he will remember you."_

Frantically, he tried twisting his hand free.

The other boy's grip became impossibly tighter.

No twelve year old was supposed to have this sort of grip. It was unbelievable.

Unwittingly, he remembered the whispers and rumors he had heard, as well as the supervisor's remarks about this boy being 'specially bred'.

It had sounded ridiculous at the time, but now those rumors made a frightening amount of sense.

What the hell did that mean exactly? He thought wildly in panic. They said he had been 'bred', not 'made'. So clearly, he was not some Robot or some weird sort of Super Cyborg. He was enough of a realist to know that those things were stupid and only existed in cartoons, no matter how much he might have secretly wished that they did in real life.

Wait a minute…

He could not believe this. His extreme panic had had actually made him regress to thinking in this completely childish manner.

Still, this train of thought had given him an idea.

"You aren't some sort of mutant, are you?" He asked, with a very straight face.

The new boy blinked, taken aback.

The best part of it was that he was not acting. He truly wanted to know, though he probably would have asked the question a bit more like the prodigy he was if the situation was normal.

"I mean, they did say you were 'bred'. That means that you came from two people like the rest of us. I suppose it works the same as with puppies?"

The new Boy was studying him, almost as though he could not quite believe what he was hearing.

"If you want puppies of a certain breed, cross two dogs of that breed. If you want puppies with strong bones and short fur, cross two dogs with strong bones and short fur, or maybe one with each and hope for the best. That rule would apply to humans as well, right?"

The corners of his mouth were actually beginning to twitch. He loosened his grip, much to 37's relief.

"Basic strategy." 37 explained. "Make your opponent underestimate you. Get him when his guard is down. I used it pretty well, didn't I? Unless I miss my guess, you are someone who has done this many times before."

The boy nodded.

"I am 37. You have a number yet?"

"41." He replied. His voice was low and unusually hoarse… possibly from all the screaming. "And…well, not a mutant, but half human." Jaio tried not to show his surprise, and decided there were more pressing things to worry about.

"You probably don't remember me, but…"

"I do." 41 said. "You are more interesting than I had thought."

Jaio went still.

The boy had actually remembered him, without any prompting… remembered him and apologized.

Jaio was not sure whether that actually counted as an apology. Frankly, he was too happy to care.

However, the small smile that lifted a corner of his mouth was the only outward sign he gave of this emotion.

41 smiled back. 37 looked away immediately. He really hoped his face was not turning red.

"You wanted to tell me something?" prompted 41. His voice was very gentle. But there was something about it that compelled 37 to look up, to maintain eye contact.

The brown eyes were strangely unnerving. His gaze was open, curious, even friendly, but those eyes... were... difficult to look at.

"I… well… You are new here, and things can be… rather difficult… for newcomers. So, you can come to me … if there is anything you need..." 37 was growing more embarrassed by the minute. This was not how he had wanted this to sound. He got up, completely furious with himself. "They will come for you soon," he said abruptly. "I should go now. "

"Wait."

He paused at the door, looked back.

"Thank you."

He hesitated, then made up his mind.

"I will be back tomorrow."

41 just smiled.

Jaio blushed vividly and left, abruptly shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was safely out of sight, he set loose the huge grin that had been threatening to overwhelm him.

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers.**

**Should I keep the squicky bits to myself?**

**H. E. B.**


	37. Sort of like a fairytale

**Hello hello, and welcome to a new chapter!**

**Seriously, people, review.**

* * *

Naya found out she liked to spend time with her betrothed. At least, he tried to make sure she knew enough of human culture she wouldn't be given odd stares. And history –humans had such interesting history! Mankind was as bloodthirsty as the own Kaiju sometimes. So many wars, World War I, then II, and the whole genocide thing. History really did have a way to repeat itself.

"We'd have to start with the issue of the whole war here." Matt kept talking and talking, and Naya had stopped listening a long time ago.

Matt kept saying stuff like 'we' and 'our', and it was far too close for comfort. Naya wasn't used to hearing those words with her in the picture. She felt like a kid in a sandbox, trying to grasp the idea of sharing her shovel and building a sandcastle with a total stranger. Sort-of-a-stranger. Naya didn't really know what this was. But she didn't know if she was ready to actually become a 'we' or an 'our' with this person. Because it sounded so nice. Too nice.

_We. Our. You and me. _

Matt still called her that stupid nickname. He still hadn't told his parents who his betrothed was (she couldn't blame him for it). He wanted her to distract him to soothe the anxiety that came with his little brother being gone. Naya obliged.

It was odd being there, in Matt's yard. With Matt's parents inside the house. The mother smelled odd (A lawyer? She thought Matt had told her his mother was a lawyer) It wasn't until she focused on her figure that she could see what was odd.

_Baby bump. _

Barely visible. Naya wasn't sure it was there at all, though the woman certainly smelled different.

Naya didn't know what to do. What did people say in a situation like this? Congratulations on having a human being growing inside of you?

"Lee, right?" The father was leaving the car, shopping bags in hand. "Hey, Matt, your mom brought this for you. I'll take the others to the kitchen." The father (John? Julian, his name was Julian) threw two packets towards him. Naya couldn't catch hers in time. It smacked against her head.

"Oops. Sorry."

"All good," Naya mumbled. She rubbed his forehead.

"Give him one more," Marie whispered. It was far too loud to be considered a whisper.

"He'll get fat."

"He's growing. He needs to grow."

"And you think gummy bears are the way to go?"

"They are happy foods. Happy food is good for you."

"Right. I love you."

"I know, now get another one."

"Just because I'm not letting you eat them? You know that healthy nutri-"

"Healthy nutrition is good for the baby." Marie lowered her octaves, all low and gravelly, while still speaking in a whisper. "Yes. I know. But the second she's out of my uterus we're going to Mr. Hotdog, and I will freaking eat."

So it was going to be a girl.

"Fine."

"Until I'm obese."

"Wonderful."

"Until I explode!"

"Spectacular."

All the while, Matt continued talking, too quickly for Naya to pick up.

"Okay. Stop."

Matt stopped. His head whipped around. "What?" He looked like someone had slapped him in the face.

"This -" Naya started. She stopped. She swallowed. "It's too fast. This is too fast. I don't really know how to - I mean, this is just -" Naya tried to put the words into the right order. How was she supposed squeeze 'I'm too stupid to keep up' into a coherent English sentence?

"Oh. Sorry." Matt looked down. "I...sorry. I get a little carried away. It's just when I - when I really get into something it's hard for me to slow down."

Naya's head was burning. Matt was really into this. Into battles chess and history. Not anything else. Not Naya. Definitely not Naya. Of course not. Jesus Christ.

* * *

If you've ever had the feeling of utter isolation and exile, you know that it, to put it lightly, doesn't feel very nice. You start to picture events and experiences that may or may not be real, create characters to ease your loneliness, and try desperately to latch on to the two things keeping you human: Your sanity and your memories.

Thankfully it wasn't that bad this time around.

How appropriate for MEGTAF to place him in the one place which no man ever wishes to set foot in, even if they still have those human-like qualities: prison. How metaphorical.

He was in a stark gray prison cell, barely large enough to walk around in. Two paces to the back, two paces to the front, and one pace side to side. Aside from his clothes, there was very little in the room: the steel bed he was currently laying in (very uncomfortable), the cell door, which was little more than a steel slab with a window and a feeding slot at the bottom. The walls, floor, ceiling, door, window, and bed are all a depressing shade of gray, which already is starting to grate at me a little bit. The entire ensemble seems to be designed to physically and mentally degrade him, make him long for something new, something interesting. Something human.

How delightfully ironic. That would have been his thought if his grip on reality was stronger at the moment.

Merry-go-round. Toxic green. Hits and jabs. Gauze and broken knuckles. Faces he didn't know. Faces he'd never seen. Foreign. Unimportant. He'd hurt them. He hadn't cared. He'd just needed someone to feel all the things in his head that hurt so much. To understand. He hadn't hurt them with his hands, but with his mind, and they were one and the same, hands, mind, it didn't matter. He'd let his anger out on someone he'd never met, on someone who wasn't his father, on someone who didn't have hands like his. Vale had his father's hands, hadn't he?

He hurt the man first. And the others just-

The boys just-

They stood around and watched.

Afterwards, his hands-

Until he fell asleep he couldn't stop his-

They trembled. His hands. They-

Lea had been with him, that warmth on the back of his mind was impossible to miss, and the brother jumped when she spoke. "Just - sleep. Your head's gonna hurt real bad tomorrow. Hands, too."

_And my heart. Heart, too. _

Vale had to question the mental capacities of the higher-ups of MEGTAF. Surely it was a bad idea to send a man to interrogate a potential dangerous person, even more so when the person had previously been attacked by that person? Surely, surely?

Even with Barnes there, he had to admit it was odd that they were in the room with him, instead of questioning him through the door.

Information. They wanted information. Ha.

Foolish people. What could he possibly tell them? So far, he learned he needed to be around people if he wanted to stay sane. Really, he only needed Matt and Lea. Together they were enough to keep the headaches and withdrawals at bay.

"So, let me get this straight, if I don't do what you want you'll keep me a prisoner?" his voice was low.

"Now, kid, I never said that. I would not keep you a prisoner-"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Vale cut him off, "But isn't the definition of prisoner: a person deprived of liberty and kept under involuntary restraint, confinement, or custody?"

"Well, yes, it is." Richards said, looking at him as if he was an unruly child who just didn't understand how the world worked. Vale didn't think he had ever seen anything quite as condescending, "However we only want what it's best."

That man- that sheep, that oath-breaker charlatan- had taken advantage of his drug-induced amnesia and had hurt him. Vale was sure he had enjoyed it, the bastard. Oddly enough, after the oh-crap-I-did-it-again-why had passed, he found out he didn't feel as much remorse about him as he was supposed to.

His hands had stopped shaking a long time ago.

He knew there were primal parts of him, that don't use logic based in any sort of human realm. He didn't like to think about that. It scared him. Bloodlust alone (and thank God people had a word for it) was hard enough on its own, not a thought but more like an addiction.

He saw Barnes shift slightly, and a part of him coiled defensively, but he squashed it down. Those parts were purely reactionary. He blinked.

When had he looked up? How long had he been staring at Richards' face? He didn't need to look into his mind to detect a sudden wave of uneasiness that enveloped him. Richards wasn't sure what was wrong at the moment –but he was sure something was off. Humans had a certain amount of self-preservation –it was a reason why they had stayed at the top of the food chain- they recognized a potential predator, even if it logically made no sense.

This obsession with owning things –another change, he supposed- he couldn't quite yet explain. Already he had marked certain areas as his. The school. His house. His family. His friends. He felt righteous anger at the realization –both MEGTAF and Kaiju alike had some nerve, slipping on the school grounds- his territory. But most of all, getting anywhere near his family. _No one_ was allowed near them.

"You are wasting too much time and resources fortifying the security around here." He was on his feet in no time at all, Vale looking up, and Barnes looking down. "I'm only half Kaiju. You should spend that in checking that the really dangerous ones _don't escape_." He ground out, his teeth glinting as he spoke.

For all his growing anger, Vale had to admit MEGTAF was what the human race needed. A semi secret organization, the best of the best, with resources to actually capture and learn things about their enemies.

"I think we are doing a good thing with our resources." Barnes let out a feral grin, "After all, it only takes half to be a threat. Ask Richards if you're not sure."

The brown haired man glared at his partner as Vale's eyes narrowed further, fists clenched, and he swore that his claws, able to damage a Kaiju's tough skin, would be digging rivulets into his palms.

"I am not a monster!" he hissed, looking the arrogant man straight in the eye.

He returned the look coldly, save for the gleam of satisfaction that he knew he felt. "It's said that you can tell what a person is like when you look them in the eyes. What does that make them if they're slit and flaming?"

"Different." Vale answered at once, before resigning. "You want information?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll be free?"

"Our definitions of freedom are not the same," he said, "we are very different creatures, after all."

(No. No, he would never be free.)

Perhaps he would be treated better, if only slightly. He wanted neutrality… maybe he could do a bit of both, a very slight push to both sides.

The Kaiju were already calling him treasonous, the humans would hardly trust him.

So…

…

Truth to be told, I don't know anything.

No, really, I don't.

Honest, I don't.

Oh, you want me to- okay. I am unsure as to why this information would help you, but other groups of Kaiju exist in Japan, France, Spain, Ireland, Russia, somewhere in Africa, and South America.

I would tell those countries the news, if I were you.

You want me to be more specific? Okay, okay. The only thing I know is an approximation. Don't look at me like that. I've only travelled there once in my life, and from there once too.

Yes, I am aware it's a very vague response, but stop with the glares. I narrowed your search to the ground of one kilometer. Though, I don't understand why you would need this information.

What? You will actually charge headfirst? You would actually go to the lair, with an army? I bet you think you'll come out alive.

Wait, you think you _will_? Don't be naïve.

But by all means, look for the entrance. See if you trust my word (if you are that desperate) or if you refuse it (paranoia in your hearts).

(See if you are as suicidal as you appear)

* * *

Vale had to suppress the vicious grin that threatened to appear on his face once Barnes left them alone. At a first glance Daniel Richards seemed fine, but he was a little more nervous, a little twitchier. It wasn't difficult to see that his little 'trick' had affected the man.

And he would be like that until he found himself in his comfort zone. That thought made Vale want to laugh. Nothing that he didn't deserve.

"Even though I really don't like you, I prefer you questioning me to Barnes, so let's get straight to business." Vale said before Richards could open his mouth. "I want you to psychoanalyze my father. I guess you knew the Butterfly kills are his doing?"

Richards' eyes widened, but said nothing.

"Should I take that as a refusal to help?"

"Not at all," Richards murmured. "But I don't like to make presumptions and judgments without evidence. I would rather not base this on the no doubt wildly exaggerated media coverage."

"Well, I'd offer to take you to a crime scene, but thankfully there are no fresh ones."

And he had no desire to go near one of them anyway. No, worse – he almost did, because whilst he was at the scene he felt wonderful and the ideas sparked through his head like lightning.

It was when he fell back into his own head that he hated it, regretted it, clutched the sides of his sink and threw up in the toilet, even when there was nothing left but to merely retch an empty stomach.

Richards left, only to return a few minutes later with a stack of photos. He wasted no time in flipping through and examining them, a veiled fascination in his eyes that may have disturbed some. Vale supposed criminal minds would interest the man.

"Well?" he questioned, after a long silence.

Richards, to his surprise, moved so he was standing near him and handed him some photos. He was not so twitchy. Fish in water.

"I find it interesting that you would need to consult me on this case. You know everything these pictures are trying to say already, I can tell. You know where his focus is."

"I speculate. Psychoanalyze the damn photos in regards to him, and not me."

Richards continued to appraise him for a moment.

"He's very precise, meticulously so. Every aspect of the crime is planned and premeditated, and arranged for a certain effect. There is a clear link to collecting; the butterfly in the chest is pinned like a collector would, and the way the victim is splayed and pinned to the wall is reminiscent of this as well.

"It could be a larger representation of the butterfly pinned to the heart. Butterflies are often symbolized with resurrection and so immortality, along with metamorphosis. I could also go further and make literary connections to iconic butterfly symbolism, most notably John Fowles' 1963 novel _The Collector_. Are you familiar with the story?"

"Man collects butterflies, kidnaps girl and keeps her locked up in his basement. Explores the idea of beauty in freedom and whether the object of desire is still beautiful taken from its natural habitat and pinned down," Vale recited.

"Indeed," Richards said, almost smugly. "Very good. Ominous though, isn't it? The pinned position could also be likened to the Vitruvian man as an example of the ideal form, or even to crucifixion and so the sacrifice of the saint by God."

"Didn't realize you were a religious man, Richards." Vale spoke to cover the jolt that ran through him at that comment – the saint. He wasn't a saint, and God didn't corrupt Jesus, but … no. Belloc did view himself as a god. The entire species did.

"Daniel. My name is Daniel, and no, I'm not. Though here I could cite Nietzsche, with his claim that though we are in a time of rising atheism – of which I adhere to – we all have a religious instinct which represents the human desire for something greater."

"Nietzsche also said that he couldn't believe in an all-powerful god existing, because he couldn't believe that such a god wouldn't be himself," Vale said flatly. "Pinch of salt as far as he's concerned."

"Hmm. Belloc is obsessed with you, but again, you already know that. I'm not entirely sure what you and are hoping to gain from this consultation, at least regarding Belloc. I'm sure you know him better than I do."

Vale's jaw clenched.

**_Oh, don't make me laugh. You think you know? You think you understand how I think and work?_**

_'Yes'_

**_No. You don't know._**

"Ever heard of a fresh perspective?"

"You're not denying understanding him?" Richards asked, raising his brows. Vale resisted the urge to curse, instead snatching up the photos.

"If you're not going to be helpful –"

"You wished for me to psychoanalyze your father? Combine the fact that he's a collector with the allusions he's making, his obsessive personality – strong attention to detail in the precision, for example – and then the fact that in his last crime scene the victim was a rather obvious substitute for you, and I think it's very clear where his mind is currently preoccupied. A man with such precision to detail would not like loose ends, and you are that – in all sense of the words – to a killer such as him. It also makes you rather unique, if just for that fact alone. Oblige me by answering a question, please; in your opinion, what does obsession plus collection lead to, in light of what was taken from the victim?"

Vale's fingers furled tightly, nails digging into his palm, as Vale's gaze remained glued to his face. Bile clawed up his throat, the careful scraps of his composure shaking.

"I'm his ultimate target. I already gathered that."

"Then why are you so bothered about helping us to catch him now?"

"Because the bastard's going to hunt me down and rip my heart out!"

"Which should give us ample opportunity to catch him, I'm sure, providing you don't die first. We don't need to hunt him down if he's going to come to you."

Vale's brain almost went dead. So that's why they still kept him there, regardless how many experiments and drugs and syringes in his arms. He was bait.

He wanted to leave. He couldn't leave.

"…Regardless, you're missing an obvious point – metamorphosis."

Vale struggled to focus on what was happening right now –on the present. "I – what? Obviously not every possible connection on a crime scene is relevant –"

"It is with him. You know it is. Precise, isn't he? Everything is planned, every possibility explored."

This was getting too close to the topic, and Vale backed away, uneasy. He couldn't believe this had been a good idea–

"Change of heart, Vale. Stealing of hearts. Obsession. Would be almost romantic if he wasn't murdering for your attention."

Vale stopped, uneasiness draining. Right. That was different from what he'd expected.

It had nothing to do with twisting him onto the wrong side of the law, making him a monster too. Of course, it had been irrational to assume Richards would make that connection without all the facts, and he was stupid for getting so worked up, but so far he had been managing to come across as eerily omniscient about the whole thing…

God, he needed to wind down, and now he just laughed, a little hysterically.

"That's your diagnosis? No. How am I the one in this parody of therapy if that's the conclusion you came to?"

"You're being very rude."

"But, I mean, come on. Really? Sure, he has a sense of attachment to his victims, but it's definitely not like this. He devours them, their fears and hopes for mercy, their realization of death –" he stopped himself.

Richards raised his brows. "Again, why are you consulting me if you're the expert?"

Vale's mind ground to a halt again as he spluttered.

"Did you give that whole spiel just to provoke a reaction and prove a point?" he demanded, aghast. "I'm glad you are a MEGTAF agent, cos you would be a fucking horrible psychiatrist."

"Still being rude …" The words were very delicate, but something about them gave Vale pause, like there was some other quality lurking there.

"Find another project to label and another broken little sparrow to fix. I have no use for it," he said curtly, turning away. "Thank you for your time, Richards."

"My, if I give you the courtesy of assuming intelligence, perhaps you should allow me the same?" Richards called after him. "I would never refer to you as a broken little sparrow."

"What would you refer to me as, then?" he asked.

"A honey badger. Sounds cute and relatively harmless, like something you'd want to take home. Like the prey. In reality, a honey badger is incredibly tough, vicious when attacked, and capable of taking out prey much larger than itself."

Vale stared, uneasy all over again, and Richards offered him a small smile.

**_As I said, you don't know me at all. But I know you. I know everything about you, without even having to be in your head, laughing when you think you are safe, laughing at your failure._**

**_Each time I look, I understand a little more, and you are that much closer to be just like me._**

* * *

Mrs. Smith, I didn't see you there.

Oh, I didn't want to go outside this recess, that's all. Kiara was hungry so I told her to go buy something, I am waiting for her here.

What am I drawing? My brother. The younger of them. I stopped drawing him when he left, but now that he's back I can continue. It's great fun.

Oh? You don't know? It's funny, really, when you think about it. It's kinda like a fairytale.

Don't they go like this? A monster, the big bad of the story, does something to a boy, or a girl. Then, after a long time, someone rescues them and they go live happily ever after.

Yeah…my brother had to save himself. It surely beats all those Damsels in Distress, if you ask me.

Don't apologize, Ms. Smith. You moved here a year ago, so you couldn't have known.

See? It's like a fairy tale. The Sleeping Beauty slept for a hundred years, my brother was there for three.

Little Riding Red Hood was tricked by a wolf. My brother was tricked by his bio-dad. What was that expression…? A wolf in sheep's clothing? Oh, I said it right? Thanks Mrs. Smith. But it was a lot worse than a wolf.

Sadly this wasn't like Hansel and Gretel, huh? That way I would have been able to go with him. But no. No two siblings lost, no house made of sweets, no killing the witch by throwing her into the oven.

…

Ah, that other drawing is the monster. He's really scary.

Three years. But it feels like it was longer. Much, much longer.

Vale still sees him, when he sleeps. He's been real quiet when we try to talk about what happened, talking will make you feel better and all.

You would think he was like the girl from Diamonds and Toads, for how he refused to speak. Once, I got him to tell, and once he started he couldn't stop.

Now I can see the monster too.

…Mrs. Smith, teacher, why are you saying that?

Oh.

No, Mrs. Smith, the fault is all mine. He did nothing wrong.

I wanted to know. But I didn't know if would be so, so awful

…

…

…

…hmm?

Oh, yes, Mrs. Smith, I'm fine.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

…wait. Did Mom just pass across the door…?

* * *

19 had been absolutely convinced that somehow MEGTAF had mixed things up and brought a human there. Even with a few telltale signs, the kid's demeanor resembled a wimp…no, less than that, an herbivore. It got to the point 19 wanted to beat down the herbivore that threatened to split his organized group, his temporary pack.

It is odd that nobody in MEGTAF has ever spoken of the hybrid hatchling before, and now that they are speaking, 19 found that their knowledge was incomplete –woefully incomplete. Because the boy, the fawn, the herbivore could fight. At least mentally, he had found, and wasn't that surprising.

"Well, he was asking for it." 19's voice broke the oppressive silence that came after the memories the New Boy had given them passed. "Being as weak as he was, he was asking for it."

26, in human form even in the rare moments he was in his cage, regarded him coolly. 37 glared at him.

"It was only right." The purple eyed Kaiju continued. "It is not the King's fault the child is difficult. Truly, it's no different to seeing a cool glass of water waiting after a long run in hot weather. He isn't even a reward. He is obligatory; he is a glass of water, not a medal."

37 felt sickened. All that time How didn't anyone notice Why nobody-? He didn't even know the boy's name! Only his number, 41. Well, 37 knew the King called the boy 'Duncan' but it was obvious the hatchling responded to another name. And he couldn't keep calling him Child.

"Unbelievable." 37 huffed, tail swinging back and forth in agitation. "Of course the Child would be afraid of the King, 19, put yourself in his place! He did not even spend time with him, and when he did something horrible would inevitably follow."

19 didn't see anything wrong with that. With not spending much time with your offspring, that is. Even before he was captured he always had a hands-off idea of parenting. There's nothing odd about it; who spends hours with their children anyway? They're there to ensure you have someone to continue the specie, and they should be kept out of sight and out of mind until they are needed.

37 didn't know he would be as incredibly shaken up as he was. His eyes fixed on 41's scar, barely visible among the bars that surrounded each of them. He'd only need to stare into space and that borrowed memory would pop up. So much pain and blood, and then an eternity before the flames –that was the Child's element, and a feeling of utter _wrongness_ permeated it all- stopped attacking, stopped burning, stopped charring, stopped scorching him.

"To be fair, humans are fragile." 19 broke their mental silence yet again. "Maybe he did something wrong, and he took that to be enough. Maybe it was a mistake that came from simple ignorance of our traditions, but if he didn't do wrong, so what? Weak and, as we know now, unwanted, he was asking for it."

"Listen here," 37 snapped, growling and hissing and downright pissed. "The child did not even struggle-"

"Of course he did not struggle, so he had to think of that as a punishment, as discipline. He just... laid there and endured. He's just not fit to rule. I don't even know why Belloc bothered with keeping him alive," he sneered, looking down at the unconscious blond. "Maybe some strange sense of duty."

"No! It is not right that he treats him so badly!" 37 glowered. "He may treat, I do not know, gomorradons like that, but that is understandable, they are servants and he is King. But that child is the Prince! He should not treat him as... One does not simply satisfies their bloodlust with their offspring!"

"How old do you think he is?" 26 spoke for the first time. He was envious of 19's mental strength, having been able to erase most of the memories.

"Ten, eleven centuries?"

"He is thirteen. Only thirteen, nothing more than a babe, yet if I was human he would be two years older than me. Of course he is small; he will hardly eat. Of course his eyes seem wide and young, he is terrified, all the time."

"What I do not understand, is why our King did not get rid of his human caretakers." 19 mused almost to himself, titling his head to the side thoughtfully.

"I have a theory." 26 said in a whisper. "Put yourself in the King's place."

19 looked at him in confusion, eye divided by the bars of the cage. "…What is your point, hatchling?"

26 sighed tolerantly. "Your new heir, after a few…lessons, is dutiful and meek. He does not fight you; he will lie there limp and accepting (this is not submission, as you think it is; it is knowing how to spare himself pain)."

19 snorted derisively.

"Sometimes, only sometimes, he will look at you with eyes hot with hate, but he won't fight. He is trapped by his word, and now he is at your mercy with nowhere to run." 19 nodded, and 26 smirked. "But if you were to touch his family…"

The older warrior let out a laugh. "Oh, you must be joking! Are you implying Belloc was afraid of this imp? You realize how ridiculous that sound?"

"You are not a scrupulous being," 26 continued, undeterred, intent on trying to find a motivation, an excuse. "You are a king; as far as you are concerned, humans, everything, is there for your amusement, to use and discard as your whim. Even the Child. He is your offspring after all, your possession. What is to stop you…?"

37 was looking interested now, eyeing the younger Kaiju and the older's reaction at the words.

"Hurting them, and the kid in turn. You are getting quite adept at bruising the soul instead of the body."

"Go on." 19 asked, immersed in his role.

"Look at them. Let your mind tumble over possibilities. Let it convince you that it's not that special of a task; anyone could go and kill them just for the hell of it. Throw off that thin veneer of civility, be the beast you have been for three years."

Seeing that 19 was about to protest yet again, 26 continued:

"He has been beaten; he's the dog that cringes pathetically when you enter the room, that licks your hand with wretched gratefulness every time you don't raise your fist."

"Yes, thanks, I can see that. What is your point-?"

"Go on then." 26 looked at the purple eyed Kaiju straight in the eye. "Convince yourself of his weakness. Look the wrong way at his family. Give him the strength he needs to tear out your throat."

* * *

Which one am I?

Eh, eh, Mom. Can you tell me?

Which one was I?

Was I the adopted one?

Or am I the only daughter?

Is he me?

We're exactly alike.

Which one am I, the girl or the boy?

Mom, who exactly is that boy? What is truly his name?

Which one am I, Mom? Which one are you going to look for? Where am I in all of this? Are you going to get my brother?

My brother...

My brother...

My brother IS me!

No, no, please, he has to get back! Can't you see? We're exactly alike! We're the same person! That boy is exactly like me. Please, I need my brother! Is he the girl after all? Please, Mom, do something! That boy is another piece of myself. Can't you see? There is no difference between us. Will I be alone from now on? I am without even myself now. What can I do? My existence is worthless. Do I exist anymore? Myself is gone!

Mom, where are you going? Why are you getting in the car? Should I come too?

Stay here? I can't! Mom, take me with you! Please don't leave me here! Mom, will that boy come back? Will I see myself again?

And… Brother, Vale, why won't you answer? Do you love me? Did you want me to go with that man instead of y- me?

So...

So...

So...

I'm alone. The other me is gone. Mom is gone, to beat some sense into Barnes, I hope. Where do they have him? Where is MEGTAF? Brother? Will you come back soon? You forgot to tell me when you, my other self, is coming back. Will it be soon?

Please, I hope so. I want to get myself back.

Please, come back.

These glimpses is all I have until he comes back. When I see me again I won't need this connection. It will be just me then. Me, and myself. Yes, that's right. I'll see myself again.

And I'll listen to his story exactly until I can parrot it back exactly as it is. It is my story so I will remember it. I will kill the ones who hurt me.

I'm going to help Mom to look for me.

I will not miss my escape.

* * *

Vale drifted to consciousness slowly. His head ached a lot. His body felt oddly heavy and sluggish. He fought to open his eyes and the lids reluctantly peeled themselves back. It was dark, that much he could tell. He tried to move and the realization that he couldn't woke him fast.

Imagine his surprise when he found himself in a cell. He groaned.

_Ah, this doesn't surprise me_. After the latest experiment, this did not surprise him in the slightest. It was only a matter of time before they stopped being so civil with him.

What he thought were walls on all sides were in fact bars, just far enough apart for a finger to pass through.

He grabbed the bars-

He was instantly shot away- slamming into the other side. He tried to arch away from it, feeling the hot stinging in his back. He only managed to crumple ungracefully to the floor. The heat of the shock wave that traveled through his body aggravated his burns, making him hiss through his teeth. He hated the way it managed to burn him.

He decided the nice cold floor was the best place to be at the moment.

Whispers emerged, mists of syllables crying out lives from inside bars. He tried to cover his ears but he couldn't move.

_"41!"_

_ "Greetings, Prince."_

_"What is your name, herbivore?"_

"I am 41." He simply answered, trying to see his cagemates through the gaps between bars.

"_I think you misunderstood, hatchling."_ Vale pinpointed the owner of the voice, a brown-scaled Kaiju whose violet eyes were boring into him. _"What is your name?"_

Vale didn't answer, his mind going a mile a minute.

Those Kaiju…had they been imprisoned all this time? Fourteen years? God, there was even one that looked like it was young…a hatchling, a child…

Was Belloc's blood any more different than Barnes'? Two people of power who where blind to the crimes they committed in the name of the greater good.

Was the torture inflicted on a half human child any greater than the slow torture of multiple Kaiju being leached of their life by everyone?

This war that two blind men had aggravated had seeped into every crevice of society. Vale could see it. The slight flinch of the most sensitive humans when they walked alongside the disguised beasts. The accusations that flowed from children of both races as they condemned other children. The enmity of a species against another; a wariness born anew in paranoid eyes.

_Will you come upon my door on a lonely night and end me?_

He understood that with clarity. Belloc would end his existence, Barnes would end his life. What need did either have for a rebellious boy when the Kaiju heir could shatter or unite the two species?

_"Well?"_ Purple Eyes didn't seem like a patient man. _"Answer me. We deserve to know the name of our,"_ he non-too-subtly stifled a laugh. _"Future ruler."_

"Your long life must have taught you either patience or disappointment, feel free to embrace either one." The child retorted.

Future ruler. The Heir.

"Just because I inherited some of his powers is no reason to name me thus. There are truer ways to mark one."

Did he dare take the power that was just as much his as was his very name?

_"Are you implying that you are not the heir, then?"_ another voice joined in, and Vale could barely see another teen-aged, almost-adult Kaiju. Scales…honey? Brown-ish? Ruby eyes.

That voice. He knew that voice. "I do not consider myself such, 37."

_"Is that a yes on you being the official heir?"_ Purple Eyes asked.

"That's a no to everything that has anything to do with you." Vale tried hard not to flail with his arms, but he felt like trampling around, shattering the earth beneath his feet like a raging child.

_"I'll pretend like that didn't break my heart, Little One."_

_"Leave it, 19."_

_"I can understand you not feeling worthy of the title (which is the utmost truth). After all, if your own patriarch sees you as nothing but a mistake-"_

Vale's chest went numb. 19 was an asshole. He hated 19. He hated Mondays. He hated this place. He hated the fact that he couldn't do anything anymore. Nothing. And he hated himself, God, he hated himself. But he hated _him_ more. So much more.

_ "19, I am warning you, leave it alone."_ The vehemence which 37 spoke startled Vale, unsure as to why this stranger would try to defend him. Physically speaking, he _was_ a runt, no matter how much political power his title gave him.

"H-How do you know?" Vale croaked, struck with the realization that he was surrounded by the ones he had hurt.

Every time sentences like that reached his ears, he shifted. Things in his brain were torn apart and rearranged. It was like he was changing, languidly turning into someone he never thought he'd be.

Someone who just couldn't.

He did not like to be reminded of that. And the more he was reminded, the more his brain was changing - the more he felt like he just couldn't do this anymore. He didn't even know what _this_ was.

_"We were hiding nearby when you lashed out,"_ another voice joined the mental chorus. Higher pitched. Young. Much too young to be there. _"I am sorry for what you went through, my Prince."_

"I am sorry you had to witness it." He responded.

_"Though I can't say I condemn those actions, it is interesting,"_ 19 mumbled almost to himself. _"You have an ambition as strong as mine, though yours is nobler, in a sense."_

"What ambition is that?" was his wary question.

_"Your ambition to stay alive has proven greater than many I have met before."_

Vale let a contemplative silence envelope him.

"It was simpler when I was younger. All I had to worry was on not angering my sire. I knew my enemy back then."

_"Who is your enemy now?"_ asked 37 with true curiosity.

"I sometimes have to worry who isn't."

"_We were trying to see which you'd be."_ The younger's voice continued. Uninterested. Apathetic. A recollection of an event. "_A Wimp, a Whore or a Warrior."_

Vale raised his eyebrows."A…social scale?" he guessed.

_"Yes. I said you would be a Wimp, -I'm 26 by the way- 37 said you would be a Warrior-"_

_"And I was right,"_ 37's smug voice chimed in.

_"And 19, well…"_ the young voice trailed off awkwardly.

It wasn't difficult to know which was Purple Eyes' option. Process of elimination. Judgment of the people. Speculation of the purpose. 37's option had left him flattered. 26's, resigned. 19's, baffled and more than a little afraid _what kind of social scale has whore as an important group of people?!_ And what could have meant for him had he classified in that?!

But it was okay, he was a Warrior, the Kaiju heir, he was- he was a honey badger.

He had support. He had allies. Now what he needed was to get out of there.

And end a war.

* * *

Lea's first memory was not a sight, but a touch. Before she could remember her first image of a memory, she remembered the touch of a hand in her own. The hand was a perfect match for hers, exactly the same, as if she was grasping her own self in the blind darkness. She had held on tightly and didn't let go.

It was the same hand she held when they laughed and played, awkwardly wrestling each other with flailing, uncontrollable limbs. It was a hand that belonged to a person Lea had known even before she was birthed. When she looked at him, she was met with bright, brown eyes and with wild, unkempt hair. Lea was sure they would soon stand at the same height, and share the same face, as they already slept in the same bed and owned the same toys. As she grew up, she came to understand that this mirror of her was called her brother.

For a long time, she felt that her brother was actually her—a clone of sorts, but with the appearance all wrong, because they liked the same things and thought the same thoughts. But whereas some might find it disconcerting to be in the presence of a copy when they felt they should be unique, she harbored no resentment for him, no. Even though their parents referred to him as the 'older' brother, Lea believed that they were wrong.

Lea was Vale and Vale was Lea.

Their hands fit perfectly together, they had been created together, for each other—they were the same. They were two bodies sharing the same soul.

It was only when they grew older yet that Lea began to see the differences.

Vale didn't like eating canned spaghetti, whereas Lea did. Vale preferred the cartoon with the snarky frog rather than the cartoon with the adventurous bear. Vale ate more slowly in order to savor the taste, and Lea liked to inhale her food with wild abandon. Lea's favorite color was green and Vale's favorite color was red. While they still had many similarities, there were little things that Lea noticed that separated them and suggested that they weren't perfect duplicates of each other after all. Lea, for some reason she couldn't explain, didn't like the possibility that they weren't the same person. It felt like a threat.

But then, one day, she had been forced to witness something that confirmed her anxieties.

They had been making faces at a mirror, playing and challenging each other to pull the most ridiculous expression. The results of their efforts had formed in the shape of uncontrollable laughter, making Lea's cheeks warm and her smile to stretch. It was during this episode—one out of many—that her eyes caught once again their reflections in the mirror, and instead of seeing the forced ridiculous faces of their antics, she saw themselves in their natural state.

Lea's smile… was brighter than her own brother's.

When she laughed, her whole face lit up like daybreak. Her grin was filled to the brim with unabashed glee that poured out of her in bubbles of hiccups and giggles. Her eyes would shine in a way that warmed the whole room, wide and bright and whole-consuming. There was an openness to her smile, an invitation that welcomed all to share in her joy, and it was infectious and endearing and breathtaking.

In comparison, when Lea looked at Vale, she saw a different type of smile—a different type of face. His smile was more crooked, more uneven—the left side of his thinner lips would quirk upwards in a natural smirk. Whereas Lea's eyes were an open fire, his were narrower, sharp in a sense that they were more likely to cut into a person's soul than warm it

And with the whole Kaiju thing, and their connection, she had finally made up her mind. They were the same, he was just a little…different inside.

And now…

And now, he was gone again. Even knowing where he was, it still made her feel like a deer being hunted, for such adrenaline and terror it gave her that notion.

Lea pushed herself onto her feet. The bed groaned and creaked like she was inflicting pain on it. Kobu was pressed against the window. He was staring at her, giant button eyes screaming 'fucking feed me'. Lea blew a raspberry against the glass. The dog didn't even flinch. Sometimes, she wasn't even sure if Kobu was actually a dog. Maybe he was an alien, a furry fat alien that liked eating shoe laces.

Lea locked the window. Kobu's eyes widened. His paws started batting at the reflection staring back at her. It looked like he was gauging her eyeballs out. Kobu hissed. Lea hissed right back. He was going to eat her shoe laces. And by the way his eyes were going all radioactive, he was going to devour her mattress too. Lea narrowed her eyes. Kobu started gnawing at the glass.

Her room was drowning in chaos. Everything was turned upsides down and inside out. Artistic disarray. She never bothered keeping it in order - or god forbid, _clean_.

She bit her lip.

This was not a good idea. None of this was good. Things never ended up being good when Lea did things on impulse. It was like she had an adrenaline-junkie living in her head, a daredevil, a madcap, someone who constantly pushed her to do all the stupid things she was taught never to do. But doing this wasn't like breaking into a car, or shoplifting, or starting a bar fight at three in the morning.

This was different.

* * *

He could see the stars from here. He was lying on his bed, legs angled onto the floor, eyes plastered against the spectrums above. It didn't take long for him to filter out the constellations. To others, the night sky was just this giant dome above their heads, painted with random dots and darkness. But Darren could see it for what it really was. A system. A structure. Interstellar evolution. An eternal cycle of star clusters flickering and fading in the midst of their Nebulae. The galaxies were the manifestation of the balance between creation and destruction, power and surrender. There was life up there, life amongst the gas and dust. There was love and war and loss, realms trying to stay alive in the order of a cosmic dynasty. And Darren wished - if just for a second - that he could hear it, the stories, the rhythms of their lives, all the things he couldn't understand from way down here.

Darren blinked. He was becoming crazy. He was thinking all the things he used to roll his eyes at when she mentioned them, when she stared up at the neon stars she'd stuck to their ceiling. The whole entire house had been a plastic night sky. He'd thought she was crazy. Apparently, Darren was crazy, too. He missed her –them- so much, so fucking much.

He looked up. It was a habit, looking up and thinking she was looking down. Watching.

* * *

Convincing Darren to help her out, that had been easy.

She knew the school, knew the hallways, knew the Kaiju. It did not surprise her, sitting on a step on a stair to look up and meet the boy's eyes. The boy was smiling. All big and bright. The epitome of a nice smile. Wide open. It was unfurling the bottom of his face, stretching the corners of his mouth all the way to his ears. He had funny ears. They were big. They made him look like a child - a tall child with broad shoulders and slender legs and big hands. Big hands. The kind of hands that reminded her of warm burrows and deep heart lines. Darren's smile is one she can match.

He heard, he understood (The Torri spell tires me if I use it too much or with long distances. Can you give me a lift?) for he is the only one who knew of that spell, who could possibly help her rescue her imprisoned kin.

* * *

There were many moments in Darren's life where he had no clue as to what he was doing. Those moments had the tendency of filling up 99% of the roller coaster ride he liked to call his day-to-day basis.

This was the basis. Darren had no idea what he was doing.

He'd said he'd do it. For the first time in forever he'd said _yes_.

_Yes_.

_Yes_ was an initiative. _Yes_ was a breath closer to the stars. _Yes_ was taking a step forward - a step that felt like a million miles.

* * *

She could almost see the idea slowly forming, like wisps of smoke steadily growing larger. She tried to hide her disappointment and alarm as the other said that he wouldn't accompany her; the she had given him an idea.

It appeared as though they were both on rescue missions.

"Let us play a game," said the centuries old boy, tilting his head to one side.

Only now did Lea realize that the shoelaces of his left sneaker weren't tied. She didn't know why she decided to be bothered by something so stupid at this specific moment. They were shoelaces. The boy probably didn't even give a single crap about whether or not her shoelaces were tied - or if there bumps and holes in the rubber soles and indents caused by furry fat alien dog teeth.

Darren had taken her to somewhere in the desert, far away, far enough that she could see a big building. The facility where Vale is kept, her mind supplied her.

"A game," the girl said curiously, swatting away a few stray curls that were obscuring her vision. "What sort of game?"

The Kaiju grinned.

(Don't ever go near the desert, Lele, or you may not come back.)

"This is the game," Darren said, his voice pretending to be the same as her dear brothers, who watched her with devoted eyes. "We will see who goes back home with our rescueé first."

He was treating it as, truly, a game. Maybe to him it was.

* * *

She looked so nice. She always looked so nice. She looked like that feeling you got when you drank a cup of coffee on a windowsill. Cozy. Comfy. Lukewarm.

He wanted to grab her by the arm and drag her out. Lower their walls. Become one with her. Find out what was wrong with him, and see if maybe she could cure him. Or even better –_maybe find out she was the same._

* * *

"What happens when one of us wins?" Lea asked, her head tilted to one side like a curious bird.

(don't you dare to go alone, dear sister)

"Ah, now that is the question," mused Darren, and smiled a sharp white smile. "I will go one way, and you will go the other, and we will see which of us comes back soonest."

"But what is the prize," she demanded, bold and impetuous, and the Kaiju's smile widened, widened when she could not see.

"The path of needles, or the path of pins," Darren continued indifferently, looking over his shoulder to show his teeth at her disgruntled look. So he had heard her conversation about fairy tales with her teacher? Jesus, how bored could he be?

"Needles," she said firmly.

Darren laughed softly. "Onward, my Princess, let us see who will claim the prize."

"And the prize is…?" she said wryly, stubbornly determined not to lose any quarter.

The wisps of her red hair, tumbling loose to frame a face still round with a childhood not even bidden goodbye. _Prey_, her scent said. _Hunter_, her eyes claim.

"Go," said the boy, and he promptly disappeared.

_Where are you going, my red-haired sister?_

_Let us play a game_

_(a game?)_

Two Torris and a torrent of exhaustion later, she was inside but still far away from his brother. The room she was in was bursting at the seams. Knowledge. Innovation. Intelligent people.

It was like you could actually see the lightbulbs glowing above their heads, filaments so eager to shine brighter than any other. Everything was moving at light speed. The earth was spinning faster here, faster than anywhere else, and Lea was being hurled into the rapid rotation, trying her best not to crash into the ground. Everything was alive. Everything was meant to do something, to be something. All these people were here for a reason. The air they breathed was important. They were paramount. Each and every one of them was a crucial part of the atmosphere.

This was what significance looked like.

She kept her eyes plastered to the ground, never daring to look at anything other than her sneakers. It was like they were deteriorating with each step she took further into the lightbulb. All the other shoes were polished. All the other laces were woven into pretty little bows. Lea felt like opening all of them and tying them all together. Or maybe she felt like letting Kobu loose. He'd be in shoelace paradise.

Her thoughts were going berserk.

_"Lea?"_ a warmth in the back of her mind, an alarmed, alarmed voice, and she smiled.

Glided cages, some glowing blue ones with no bars, some sort of energy that kept small-sized Kaiju in their place. Not even one hissed at her, they seemed more curious than anything.

_"Why?"_

"Hm?"

_"Why did you have to come?"_

It was the 'have' that sounded out of place. It made him sound angrier. At least he was being honest.

Lea scrambled away from the people. She bumped her big toe on something. She could feel the bite claw its way up her leg. Everything was burning. She bit down on her tongue. Her eyes were getting wet. And her cheeks. And her nose, too.

_"I'm not going without you, so tell me where you are."_

She could almost see him, now. Lea drew close to his side as he led the way. Dark movements kept catching the corner of her eye, yet when she looked she saw nothing but shadows.

She heard a crack to her right.

She turned to see a disfigured face staring back, then it was gone. She blinked several times. It could have almost been mistaken for another shadow, had it not been so defined. She remembered a pulpy burned face, jaw missing, eyes melted shut.

Her brother lifted a finger to his mouth.

Ssh.

Lea mashed her hands onto the bottom of her face. She couldn't breathe. But not breathing was better than making breathing sounds. Because breathing sounds were loud. Breathing sounds could be heard all the way from space.

_"What **was** that?"_ she whispered, horrified. In, out. In, out. Deep breaths.

_"Kaiju children. They try to scare you. Take it like a prank,"_ he stated.

_"You don't seem too concerned,"_ she noted. She relaxed a touch. If he wasn't freaking out, why should she?

_"I know what I'm doing, what I'm telling you to do. As long as you know the way, you can't be tricked." _He paused. _"You can't let them taste fear."_

_"What happens when you do?"_

_"Then you're no longer interesting enough to let live,"_ he stated with such knowing and finality that Lea shivered. She pulled at her gem and forced away the unease. No fear. Fine. She was Lea freaking White. She could do that. _"Or you would if they were free."_

He seemed to sense her steel and she could hear the grin in his voice. "_Good."_

As she started walking again, pale faces flicked out from behind cages. Twisted children's faces. Some were blind, others had birthmarks of puckered skin that ran like a knife wound across their entire face. Lips were missing, teeth were crooked or gone, heads were beaten in. They all looked starved and mad. Each time one made eye contact they skittered back and morphed back into their true forms. That breathy giggle…

Wind brushed past her, carrying along whisperings.

_"...I know he's a wolf, said Riding Hood…"_

_"...Are you lost?..."_

Lea jumped as someone brushed her cheek.

_"...Stay with us. We know how to..."_

A hand tugged her own, or it seemed like it. She ripped it away and held it to her chest, stumbling.

_"...So pretty. Come with us. We'll protect you…"_

_"...He's bad luck…"_

_"...suicide on the corner of Truth and…"_

She could feel them all encroaching upon her. The faces grew closer and closer until they were merely feet away.

_"...You're going the wrong way!..."_

_"...Listen!..."_

_"...He's gonna—"_

She could practically see her halfing brother, could almost see him halting in front of her and bristling. His lips drawing back as he bared his teeth. _"Back!"_

Or at least, that's what Lea interpreted it as. It was more of a bark from the back of his throat. Either way, the order was clear and punched Lea in the chest like the crack of a whip. Her feet took a step back without her permission.

_"Not you, Lea," _Vale sighed, exasperation mixed with an edge of amusement. _"Try to appear here. I'll show you where."_

She smiled; her big brother managed to protect her even when he wasn't physically near her.

She needed to get this done. And here - in plain sight - it felt like someone was blasting a giant laser pointer onto her scalp.

Lea's lungs were deflating. She couldn't breathe with all these lights on. She was far too visible. She fought her way to the nearest wall. She pressed her finger against the metal, digging her nails into the tiny indents. It was a structure she could hold onto, a moored buoy that kept her head above water. She swore she could feel them burning themselves into her shoulder blades like brand marks.

_Intruder. _

Her clothes made sounds. Ruffling sounds. Lea shook her head so much her brain went boom.

_Stop. Stop. They're going to hear, brother. They're going to hear. _

She was pressed against a wall, and yet it felt like she was in the center of everything, the world molding around her, towering, looming, ready to crash on her like a tidal wave.

Lea looked around.

Nobody was paying her any attention. No, no, that's not right, someone had seen her and now six pair of eyes were glaring at her.

Okay. Okay.

She wasn't scared, as she was playing the game, for it is still a game between them, and the smile she gave when she knew the objective was near was as triumphant as Darren's must be.

Another Torri later, she was finally beside her caged brother. Four other Kaiju were with him in that room, much bigger than the ones in the previous room Lea had been.

"Would you look at that." A rumbling voice said. Lea looked to see a jaded-colored, purple eyed Kaiju.

_"Stay away from her." _Vale's order was a hot prod of protectiveness inside her head, and although Lea couldn't see his lips, she suspected they hadn't moved. It was like that bark he had emitted; more telepathic than anything else.

The Kaiju paused, and Lea thought he must have noticed something was off about him by now, but no— he was _laughing._ "You presume to tell me what I can and can't do? You may be my Prince, but you can't control my every action." His eyes hardened and he leaned forward.

"Go home, Little Sister." her brother tried once more, and Lea could see the Kaiju's eyes widening.

The door of the room opened, revealing dozens of men. Lea wanted to kick herself. How, _how_ could she have pretended to slip in there unnoticed?

Her thudding heart between her ribs, quickening with fear realized too late, and half a second later she reached for her brother's hands.

She turned. Her hair was a web over her eyes; she clawed it away. She didn't think she could outfight them. She could maybe outrun them if there was a door to run _to..._

A dark-skinned man lunged. She tried to dodge away, but he got a fistful of her hair. And then he'd pushed her down to the floor and was on top of her, and she fought back like a wildcat, all teeth and nails, screaming at him, prepared to gouge an eye out if need be, but her attacker fought like a man, with superior upper body strength and wider hands, and worse, like a man who didn't care that he was fighting a girl, and after wrestling with her wrists for only a few moments, he dealt a cross-cut to her jaw that should have knocked her out cold; it was only her luck that it did not.

But it stopped her fighting. She tried to bring up a hand to hit him, claw at him, _something,_ but everything was still swimming...

She was resisting, she _was,_ and the realization that one man was still strong enough, one-handed, to overcome her struggles, nearly turned her mind inwardly whimpering upon itself.

She couldn't let that happen. No. She had to try. Try _something._

She felt the thin, electric _zing_ in the air.

The grip on her wrists slackened. Only a little, but enough to give her courage: she wrenched at her wrists, and got one free. Again she aimed for his face.

But the man was already sitting up, the look in his eyes dazed and unbelieving and _furious._

"You...bloody...BITCH!"

Even though she saw the blow coming, there was nothing she could do.

Vale screamed wordlessly, throwing all his weight against the cold energy of the bars. _"YOU BASTARD!"_ he howled, feeling tears spill over.

_Vale…_

God. This wasn't just about _her._ She couldn't let him hurt her anymore; she _had _to stand up and get him out!

The world was still spinning as the man wrapped his arms around Lea, who cries seemed to be screaming her brother's name.

He picked her up. Lea wanted to scream. Lea wanted to slam her arms and legs into every direction. Lea wanted to set the man on fire. Lea wanted to watch everything disappear. Lea wanted everything to stop.

But she couldn't move.

_"NO! LEA! NOOOOOO!"_ Vale's scream sustained itself until the door sealed itself shut behind the five of them.

(Don't go to the desert, sister)

_Let us play a game._

(What is the prize?)

* * *

**So this is it, my dear readers.**

**Should I keep the squicky bits to myself?**

**H. E. B.**


End file.
